Upon The Edge Of Glory
by Ec1aire
Summary: Time travel isn't a new thing for Daphne. Surviving on her own without James, though... That's unfamiliar territory. With an Infinity Stone around her neck keeping her alive, she has no choice but to live through every second of the next 77 years, waiting for that moment when she can reunite with him. All the while trying not to fall in love with Bucky as well. Book Three. OC/Bucky
1. 1 - Back In Time (Again)

**A/N: So here is the start of Book Three! I have to admit, I was a bit hesitant about this one, because it just seems so typical, with what direction this has gone in. But a friend of mine encouraged me, and told me to think of it as a way to develop Daphne as a character. So I decided to do it. This is a mainly Daphne-centric fic, with the occasional short section with James. It'll hopefully still be interesting enough to keep your attention, though :)**

* * *

 **Upon The Edge Of Glory**

 **1 - Back in Time (Again)**

The first thing I was aware of was the fact that my arms were tied behind my back with very coarse but oddly weak rope. Next was that the chair I was sat on was made of wood, rather than the expected plastic or metal. After that, and most irritatingly, there was a bag on my head.

Within seconds the bag was removed, and I let out a stream of low curses in Russian as yellow, artificial light hit my unprepared eyes. Slowly, I became able to examine my surroundings. I was in a completely concrete room, and there was an older man dressed in the clothing of the American army. Only problem was, it was about eighty years out of date. The clothing, that was. Not the man.

"You've got some nerve trespassing on an army base in broad daylight," the man said gruffly. His hair was greying, but his stance was strong, and I figured he was probably a higher-up in the ranks. He was standing at a bad angle for me to see what patches he was wearing.

"Where am I?" I asked in return.

"Same place you were before this whole mess started," he answered snappily.

I shook my head. "I don't know where that is."

He stared for a long time, before saying, "You're in Miami."

"And you're lying," I retorted calmly. "Believe me when I say I've been trained to detect this stuff for longer than I care to admit most of the time. You might as well just tell me the truth."

He stared at her for a long time, clearly weighing up the pros and cons. "We're in New York."

"State or city?"

"Both."

I sighed, but then nodded. "Fine. Now would you mind explaining why you've tried to tie me up?"

"Tried to? I-"

I flexed my arms, easily breaking the weak rope, and held up both hands to show him my new freedom. "Tried to," I said with a smirk.

He narrowed his eyes, hand twitching towards where I guessed he had a gun hidden. "Who are you?"

I stared at him, before letting out a long breath and saying, "It's complicated."

"What do you-?"

"Look," I said sharply, "I'm not going to do anything. I'm going to walk out of this base and, let's be honest here, you're probably never going to see me again."

He sneered. "Do you expect me to believe you? Are you aware of how many weapons you were wearing when you appeared?"

"None," I said simply, shaking my head. "They were all taken off of me."

He shook his head. "You were carrying knives. Four of them. Now, maybe I would let you go if you were not armed but-"

"My necklace!" I said, grasping at my throat, which was bare. "Where is it?"

"It was confiscated."

"I need it back."

"I really don't think-"

"You don't understand!" I cried, narrowing my eyes at him. "Keep my weapons; I don't care. But I have to get that necklace back."

"What's so special about it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Why does it matter?" I asked scathingly. "Either you're going to return it to me willingly or I'm going to take it back by force. And trust me when I say I'd prefer it to be the former. I don't want to hurt anyone. But that necklace is very important to me."

The man stared at me for a long time, before dipping a hand into his pocket and pulling out the silver chain and orange stone, which caused such relief to flood through me I almost sagged against the chair. I stood up and took the necklace with as little gusto as possible, slipping the chain around my neck and tucking the charm under my top.

"I'm not supposed to let you go, you know."

I smiled. "Regardless of whether you're supposed to or not, you couldn't stop me if you tried." I patted his shoulder, glad that he wasn't going to try to stop me from leaving, despite what he'd just said to me. "See you around, soldier. Maybe one day our paths will cross again."

"Miss?"

I paused and turned. "Yes?"

"I just thought you should know that you had a miscarriage shortly after arriving here. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for your loss."

All I could do for a few minutes was gaze blankly at him, my mind filtering the information slowly. "How far along was I?" I asked, with a surprisingly steady voice.

"Only a week or so."

A week... My eyes hardened as I realised that that week took me back to the short time James and I were captured by Hydra. What they'd done to us on those operating tables had become unimportant due to what happened next, but I hadn't known what they'd done. I supposed now I did. I spun on my heel and stormed out, slamming the door against the wall with enough force to make the wood splinter. I didn't care.

* * *

Brooklyn. I was in bloody Brooklyn. Of all the places on the planet it had to be _Brooklyn_. Brooklyn in 1937, if one wants to be precise. Which meant my two favourite heroes were the ripe age of twenty, and nineteen for Steve. Sighing, I meandered through the city, recognising a few of the streets from my visit here with James in the future. So little time had passed since then, yet it felt like forever.

Knowing so much about the dangers of time travel and having two versions of yourself in two places, I decided it would be necessary that I start to recreate myself a little. I bought a chocolate brown wig in a make up store ('bought' being used loosely here), and then picked up a whole new wardrobe of dresses, shoes and make up to make myself fit in with the era.

As I wandered along a fairly empty street during my fifth day back in the 30s (this going-back-in-time thing was getting old, and _fast_ ), I became startled by the familiar sound of a scuffle. I peered into the closest alleyway and saw that a group of four guys had surrounded a young girl, and their intentions were not difficult to guess.

I approached them without hesitation. "Hey!" I called, drawing their attention to me. "Get your filthy hands off of her."

The apparent 'ringleader' stepped forward, flexing his muscles in a way that was clearly supposed to be intimidating. I found it funny - like he was an aggravated chihuahua, or something. Even with his superior size, I knew he had nothing on my strength. But he had yet to learn that. And the darker part of my mind was all to happy to have the job of teaching that particular lesson to him.

"If you don't watch yer mouth," he growled, "you'll be joining 'er on the floor."

I raised an eyebrow. "Empty threats never got anybody anywhere, asshole."

He growled and clumsily swung his fist at me. I could have easily deflected it with my eyes closed. I calmly stepped out of his path, and was unable to hold back a smirk when his fist collided with the wall beside me. He howled with equal pain and fury, and then his friends decided to try their luck. Two fell to the floor, having been thrown into the wall and knocked unconscious. The other I simply elbowed in the temple. The ringleader glared at me, his hand clearly broken as he cradled it in front of his chest.

"You'll regret this," he hissed, before turning and running off.

I rolled my eyes. "Right," I muttered. Remembering that I wasn't alone, I turned to the girl. She looked to be about seventeen, and her eyes were wide with the remnants of her terror, and shock. "Are you alright?" I asked her. "Did they do anything?"

"N-No," she stammered. "They did nothing. I..." She shook her head, and I pitied her for a moment, before pushing it back. She didn't need pity. She needed help and reassurance.

"It's alright," I said soothingly, wrapping an arm around her as I started to lead her towards the main road. "No one is going to hurt you."

"Thank you for helping me," she muttered.

I smiled. "It's fine. Now, where do you live? I want to make sure you get back okay, and you never know whether guys like that are going to take another punt at it."

"I live not too far from here," she said. "Just a couple streets away."

I nodded. "Well, let's go then."

"Are you sure?" She bit her lip. "I could go alone."

I frowned. "It wouldn't sit well with me to just leave you on your own after an experience like that. And I'm not in any kind of hurry."

The girl nodded and start walking on slightly wobbly legs along the street. I moved silently alongside her. "My name is Agatha, by the way," she said hurriedly, her red lips curving into a friendly but slightly shaky smile.

I grinned in return. "Evelyn," I answered, picking the first name that came to my head. "It's nice to meet you." It was a strange sensation to be having a normal conversation with a normal person, but I had to remind myself that, here, I wasn't Daphne Sparrow and I wasn't the infamous assassin Silverthorn, I was just Evelyn... Moore, a young woman who was just like everybody else, for the most part.

"And you," Agatha said with another smile, shaking my hand. She looked hesitantly at me, before asking, "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

I chuckled without thinking. "That was nothing. I can do a lot better - or worse, depending on who you ask." I then shrugged, the story flowing easily over my tongue. "My parents both knew how to fight, and they taught me from a young age. 'No girl is ever gonna survive the world if she can't defend herself', my father used to say."

"Well, it's certainly come in handy today."

I scoffed. "It's saved my life several times, too," I muttered, hoping she wouldn't ask about it. Luckily, my prayers were answered. Agatha simply sent me an odd look, pursed her lips, and then looked resolutely forward. She had probably figured out that was a subject best left alone.

"Ags!"

Agatha spun around, her face morphing into a full-faced beam as she rushed from my side and threw herself at a guy with a flop of black hair and a charming grin on his face. He laughed and swept her around in a circle, before ducking down his head and cementing his lips against hers. After awkwardly averting my gaze, I figured she was well cared for, so decided to leave them to it. By the time Agatha finally tried to find me, I was long gone.

* * *

Paying for my little apartment wasn't easy when I had no job, but I made do by stealing just a dollar or two from people as I passed them. Eventually it all mounted up to enough money to pay for rent. Not that I needed much - $18 a month for rent was a sweet deal compared to what I was used to. I felt kind of bad for stealing money from people, but, in my defence, I was kind of doing a Robin Hood and only stealing from those who looked like they had a decent amount of money. Most of the things I needed to survive - food, clothes etc., I admittedly also stole...

Okay, yeah, I was getting into some bad habits. But can you blame me? I was a woman in the 30s with no job and no man to 'look after me'. Not to mention my sense of right and wrong had been warped for close to 60 years.

I spent a lot of my free time in a few of the many libraries dotted around, trying to find out as much as I could about the Infinity Stones (the Time Stone in particular, but there was a lot less information about that). I wanted to go home, but as of yet, I'd had no luck. Nothing I tried would get the Stone to work. So I was stuck with books and the ridiculous hope that one of them might give me some ideas.

After just over a month of searching and yielding no useful results, I was ready to blow up a building. And, unfortunately for everyone, I didn't mean in the figurative way. Maybe if I'd been dropped during the war I could have gotten away with it - joined the army and fought against some Nazis to stem my frustration - but, alas, my luck had never been that good.

After slamming the book I'd just finished reading on the table in front of me (it had _nothing_ useful in it), I put my face in my hands and let out a dramatic groan. I knew that would cause many irritated faces to glare in my direction, but they could go to hell for all I'd care.

Yeah. It was a bad day.

"Evelyn?"

It took me a second to remember that Evelyn was my new name, and I slowly lifted my head to see a vaguely familiar face smiling down at me. Once again, I took a moment, before hesitantly asking, "Agatha, right?"

She nodded, her lips pulling up into a grin far too enthusiastic for my bad mood to cope with. "What're you up to?" she asked, sitting herself beside me. I had to push back the instinct to glare at her - this was the 30s, so everyone was nice to everyone.

"Trying to do some research, but unfortunately I've yet to find anything helpful."

Agatha picked up the book I'd finished reading and read, " _Old Norse Stories._ " She frowned, putting the book down. "Why are you looking up that?"

I shrugged one shoulder, my mind quickly thinking up an excuse. "I'm going to try for a job that requires an abundant knowledge of Norse mythology."

Agatha stared at me, then her frown deepened. "Then why are you so aggravated? Are you looking for something in particular?"

Slowly, I nodded. "Uh, yeah, I'm looking for information about things called the Infinity Gems, or Soul Gems, or Infinity Stones. It changes from book to book."

"Any particular one?"

"Not really," I lied. "Unfortunately, this is the third library I've been to where I've almost or completely exhausted their supply of mythology books. I'm going to have to move onto the fourth soon."

"Is this job really worth all the effort?"

I nodded, my face serious. "Absolutely. It'll give me the chance I need to get back to the man I love."

Agatha's face lit up. "There's a guy?!"

I chuckled, somehow unable to keep hold of my poor mood while she was around. Her cheeriness was infectious. "There's a guy," I confirmed.

"What's he like?"

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"Is he tall?"

"Yes."

"Strong?"

" _Very._ "

"Long or short hair?"

"Long at the moment, but he's been known to have both."

"Dark or light hair?"

"Dark."

"Name?"

"James."

Agatha suddenly got a sly gleam to her eyes that had me dreading the next question. "And what's he like in bed?"

I stared at her, mouth slightly agape. I wasn't embarrassed by the question (come on, I was friends with _Natasha Romanoff_ \- I'd heard much worse), but I was surprised she said it so openly. "Did you seriously just ask me that question?" I queried, astounded.

Agatha blushed slightly, her smile becoming sheepish. "Yes," she said. "Sorry, I know it's personal, but that's how I act around my usual friendship group. Nothing held back."

I smiled at her. "It's fine; I'm not offended. Just surprised. Most people wouldn't even ask, let alone without stuttering or hesitating beforehand."

Agatha's blush deepened. "Sorry," she muttered again.

"It's fine."

Agatha peeked up at me, that little grin appearing again. "Well?"

I shrugged. "I don't know," I answered honestly.

"You mean you've never...?"

I shook my head. "No. I get the feeling we would have done - _maybe_ \- but then things took a serious turn for the worst and... well, one thing led to another and now I'm here and he's currently beyond my reach."

"Hence all the research."

I nodded. "Yeah."

Agatha smiled kindly. "Well, I've got some free time for a while. Want me to help?"

I blinked at her in surprise, then nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah, actually. That would be a huge relief."

Agatha grinned. "Hey, if it gets you your man back, I'm hands down all for it!"

I nodded. "Thank you, Agatha. I can't tell you how much that means to me."

"Don't mention it."


	2. 2 - Not Exactly Captain America

**A/N: This one is a little shorter, but hey, I updated it earlier than usual, so I suppose that kinda makes up for it :)**

 **Big thanks to: shadowednight1, Veggie's Onna, TMNTGirl, Regin, NESSAANCALIME6913, Lara Barnes, Dracula'sBowGirl, Bucky-Ruined-My-Life, wicca7002, jjowens301** **and gotenxbulla for following/favouriting. Nice to see I have people who are still interested in this series :) Thanks, guys.**

 **Unfortunately, I can't access all my reviews at the moment (some kind of Fanfiction issue, I suspect), so I'll have to respond to them at another time. Thank you for your support, though :)**

* * *

 **2 - Not Exactly Captain America**

Oddly enough, I spent more time with Agatha after that. At first it was just because we kept running into each other, but after a while we exchanged contact details and addresses, and started arranging to meet each other. I never got that 'job', but I still secretly kept researching about the Infinity Stones whenever I had the chance. As far as Agatha knew, James was away in the military, and wouldn't be back for many years.

For two years, up until 1939, I lived in Brooklyn. My days were spent either with Agatha, in the library, or just moping at home missing my friends. After a few months of boredom I started to learn German and Italian, just to try to fill my day. Two years later and I was fluent in German (it was surprisingly similar to Russian) and was getting there with Italian.

I didn't even want to _think_ about how James was reacting to what he probably thought was my death. No one could have predicted I'd be thrown back in time _again._ As I'd been promised by Mariana, the Time Stone's presence around my neck kept my body in the same state, so I didn't age as I should have done.

It was in 1939 that I ran into one Steve Rogers for the first time. Rather predictably, he was in a back alley. Being beaten up. Even though I didn't know this version of Steve, and he had no idea who I would become in _his_ future, I couldn't just walk past without doing something. So I calmly strolled up to them both, laying my feet on the ground with heavier footfalls than normal so my heels made loud noises on the stone. The guy beating up Steve, who was neither over nor underwhelming, paused with his fist raised in the air, and then looked at me. He grinned, showing he was missing one of his bottom teeth.

"Well, 'ello, darlin'. Come to join the party?"

"Yes," I said simply. "Though probably not for the reason you are expecting."

"Wha'd'ya-"

I drew back my arm and threw a punch at his face, causing him to yelp and dodge it, but only just. His surprise meant it was all too easy to use my other hand to grab hold of his throat and shove him against the wall. My grip was unrelenting as he tried to forcefully pry my fingers from his neck. "You are not to go anywhere near this man again, do you understand? I am letting you off easy this time, but I make no such promises if I see you again. Am I clear?"

The guy spat on the floor by my feet. "You can go to hell," he snarled.

Keeping my calm expression firmly in place, I yanked the dagger strapped to my leg from its sheathe and pressed it against his throat, using just enough force to break the skin and tell him I meant business. "Am. I. Clear?" I hissed. The guy had become extremely pale, and he nodded jerkily, forcing me to remove the knife before his own actions caused it to cut too deeply into his skin. "Good," I said, stepping back and letting go of my hold on him. He sucked in a large lungful of breath. "Now get out of here." He scrambled away without a word. I turned around and saw Steve was breathing heavily and leaning against the wall, but was staring at me with wide eyes that were simultaneously fearful and awed. "You okay?" I asked as curtly as possible, wanting to maintain the image I'd just created.

"Yeah, uh... Yeah. Thanks," he stuttered, wiping his dirt-covered hands on his clothes. "But you, uh... You know you didn't have to do that, right? I had-"

"What?" I asked, unable to resist teasing him. "You had him on the ropes?" I chuckled. "Oh, I've no doubt." I gave him a wink and a mock-salute, before spinning on my heel and walking away from him without another word. I didn't make it far before I was addressed by an agonisingly familiar voice.

"That was a dangerous thing you just did."

I slowly turned my head to see James Buchanan Barnes, clean-shaven and with short, fluffy hair, leaning against a wall with his arms over his chest. The charming smirk I'd come to expect was noticeably absent. "I don't care if it was dangerous - it needed to be done," I replied shortly, wanting to find my chance to get the hell out of there. It was too painful being in the presence of the man I loved, but who didn't know me yet. When I dragged up the courage to look into his eyes, I saw none of the pain and none of the torment. They were serious in that moment, but I could see the innocence and playfulness waiting to be let out. These were the eyes of a stranger. And that made it even worse.

"You could have been hurt," he said softly.

I shook my head. "No, I couldn't have been. He was just your average guy, and I've been specially trained in several different combat types. Trust me, I was always gonna be fine."

He stared at me for a long time, before finally cracking a grin. He held out a hand. "James Barnes," he said, and I hesitantly shook his hand. "But call me Bucky - everyone else does."

"Evelyn Moore," I replied slowly.

"Well, Miss Moore, allow me to be the first to thank you for saving that punk's ass," he said cheerfully, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at Steve, who was finally walking towards us.

"I'm sure he would have been perfectly fine without me," I said evenly, finding amusement in the fact that Steve's expression changed so quickly from impassive to shocked to impassive again as he registered what I'd just said. "Now, if you two young men will excuse me, I have somewhere to be." I turned and left before they could ask me to stay, practically fleeing from the scene. I had barely kept my emotions in check, and as soon I was out of sight I leaned heavily against a wall, breathing deeply in and out in order to stop myself from breaking down. I dropped my head, my eyes falling on the Time Stone around my neck. "Damn this thing to Oblivion," I hissed, clutching the necklace tightly. The silver casing groaned under the pressure of my grip, but I knew that nothing could destroy the Stone itself. Not fully, anyway. I wondered whether it would have been better if that shot had just killed me, rather than forced the Time Stone to take me somewhere else. While the Stone was around my neck I was basically immortal, but I'd still have to wait almost eighty years before I saw James again. And I didn't think I was strong enough to do that.

Seeing Bucky made that painful ache in my heart fresh all over again, and I knew that I couldn't risk staying here. And with that decision in mind, I packed my things, said a hasty goodbye to Agatha (which made me feel bad, but she let me go despite her tears), and left Brooklyn.

* * *

Two weeks later I found myself standing outside Camp Edwards, a military training facility established less than a year before. I knew it would become rather prominent in future, and so it was amusing that I had stumbled upon the base by chance. I had headed in a random direction from Brooklyn, and now I was in Barnstaple County, Massachusetts.

I was back in my Hydra outfit - the one I'd been wearing when I first arrived in 1937 - with a pistol strapped to my thigh, two daggers sitting at my waist, my throwing knives hidden all over my body, and a pair of Browning M1918 BARs crisscrossed over my back. I still had my brunette wig pinned securely in place. I scaled the outer fence of the army base easily, marching through the centre of the base with all the confidence of a lion amongst sheep. At first, the men in the base only stared at me as I walked past, but then I had a group of about a dozen running towards me, all carrying standard bayonet rifles.

I was surrounded in seconds, and while I willingly went with them to their leader, as soon as they tried to take my weapons from me, my hostility went up three levels. The first guy I sent sprawling fifteen feet away. The others didn't like that, of course, but they mostly kept their distance. A few tried to edge closer, but a single dark glare from made them scuttle back. Not exactly a brave bunch.

A single man entered a tent, while the others ordered me to stop and kept their guns trained on me.

Out of the tent stepped a familiar man. "Well, this _is_ a small world," I stated wryly, smirking at him.

He stared at me for a long time, before his eyes fell on the rather distinctive necklace around my neck. "Lower your weapons, men," he instructed. "There's no danger here." They did so, glancing back at me several times as they walked away. The man scowled at me. "What in God's name are _you_ doing here?"

I shrugged. "Honestly, my coming here was a coincidence. I left Brooklyn, wandered for a bit, then suddenly there's an army base in front of me. How was I to resist?"

"You know, without official clearance, you're technically trespassing. You could be locked up for this. You _should_ be locked up for this."

I scoffed. "I'd like to see you try." I eyed him, narrowing my eyes at his familiar face. "What's your name?" I asked slowly, eyeing the patches on his clothes that labelled him to be high in the ranks, the iconic bird-shaped pin gleaming against the dull green of his jacket.

"Colonel Chester Phillips," he said curtly. "And yourself?"

"I have many names," I muttered, trying to push past my shock that this was Steve's Colonel from the war. Damn. I might as well have been _throwing_ myself at people I knew (at least by name) these days. What were the chances of _that?! "_ The one I'm currently going for is Evelyn Moore."

"And what is your real name?"

"That's classified," I said with a smirk, which quickly dropped. "Seriously. I don't think I can tell _anybody_ that."

"Why not?"

I sighed, shaking my head. "It's complicated, and, quite frankly, it makes me sound insane. Just humour me."

Colonel Phillips stared at me with pursed lips, before letting out a breath and reluctantly nodding. "So, what purpose do you have for entering here?"

I shrugged. "Well, I have no idea what to do with myself and, since I'm here, I might as well make use of my skills. Could you use another trainer or something?"

Phillips looked at me like I'd grown another head. "I really don't think-"

"If you make a single comment about the fact I'm a woman, I will hit you so hard your head will be knocked into yesterday," I growled. "I am perfectly happy to show you what I can do, but I won't have you dismissing me just because I have a pair of breasts."

I found it funny that the Colonel remained so impassive, when most people in this time would either ogle or blush at my bluntness. "Very well," he said. "We'll see what you can do. How's your strength?"

I chuckled, grinning. "Well, I'm not exactly Captain America, but as we both know I'm stronger than your average soldier."

"Good," he said sharply, apparently choosing to ignore my off-handed comment about Captain America (which I was glad of, because that was a slip I was mentally punching myself for). "And you'll have a chance to prove it later. I'll get a few soldiers of varying abilities ready to fight. But be warned; they'll be under strict instruction not to go easy on you."

I chuckled. "Colonel, I'd be insulted if they did."


	3. 3 - Stronger Than The Strongest

**A/N: Just a quick note to say that we're starting to prepare our garden to build a workshop, so if I'm late updating over the next few weeks, that's why. It shouldn't disrupt anything, but I thought I'd let you know just in case. Onwards!**

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 **Review Response(s)(for both chapter 1 and 2):**

 **Lara Barnes: I'm glad you're looking forward to it. And yeah, I probably would have freaked out, too. And Daphne did, in a controlled kinda way - I mean, she packed up and left Brooklyn because of one encounter. I'd kind of say that was freaking out.**

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* * *

 **3 - Stronger Than The Strongest**

It took two hours for the Colonel to organise my little mock-tournament, and during that time I was given a brief tour of the camp by a rather snide young man. Based on the expanse of green fields surrounding this area, there was no lack of space for fitness exercises and other training routines.

When I was finally sent for, I rolled my shoulders a few times before approaching the stone-faced Colonel. He turned to me, eyes flickering over my form, before he said, "This is a close-combat only test," he said. "Those guns will not be necessary. Nor any other weapons I'm sure you carry on your person."

I found myself smirking at him. "It seems you remember a fair amount about our last meeting, Colonel," I said, even as I started pulling my weapons out from my armour. The two machine guns clattered onto the floor, promptly followed by the pistol, daggers and throwing knives. I received more than a few twisted looks as I dumped more and more weapons onto the dusty ground by my feet. "Not one of them is to be touched, okay, Colonel?" I said, and after I got a sharp nod in return, I walked calmly and confidently towards a large ten metre by ten metre sparring field that had been crudely marked out on the grass.

"Your opponents will become more experienced as you go," Phillips told me. "The first is one of our newest Privates."

I looked at the man, and noticed he appeared to be barely older than twenty. He was tall and a little thin, but I could tell he also packed a decent amount of muscle. I rolled my shoulders again, before sinking into a perfectly-balanced and overly-practiced crouch.

"The rules are simple," the Colonel said sharply. "If someone yells stop, goes limp or taps out, the fight is over. If they step outside the marked boundary, it is an automatic lose. There will only be two people in the fighting area at any one time."

"Why do I feel like you're just reciting the rules of Fight Club?" I asked lowly, chuckling to myself. Then louder, so he could hear me, "Are pressure points allowed to be utilised?"

Colonel Phillips shook his head. "This is a test of combative ability, Miss Moore, not of how well you know your way around the nervous system. Normal fighting only."

I let out a dramatic sigh, before cracking a taunting grin and nodding. "As you wish."

"Begin when ready," the Colonel said, and my opponent wasted no time in charging at me. I dodged easily out of the way, grabbing hold of his arm and using my foot to pin him to the ground whilst pulling his arm behind his back.

"Don't just go for the first move," I murmured in his ear, even as I pulled his arm a little bit more, trying to get him to surrender. "Give yourself some time to examine your opponent and try to find any immediate weaknesses."

The man nodded, before saying, loudly and clearly, "Stop." I let go of his arm and took the pressure of my leg away from his back, before offering him a hand up. I could see he was feeling humiliated at being thrown down so quickly, but he accepted the hand up either way. I gave him a quick slap on the shoulder as he walked out of the sparring ring.

The next four men followed in much the same way, with me needing only a move or two to disable them. With each one I gave them a personal criticism to improve, and while one sneered at the mere thought of me helping him out, the others seemed to take my words into account.

The next twelve men after that took a bit more effort, but even after seventeen fights I hadn't even really started breathing heavily. My longest fight lasted just sixteen seconds.

It wasn't long before there was only one man left to fight. He was huge, towering above six and a half feet, with very broad shoulders and arm muscles that would probably make even post-serum Steve do a double take.

"I want to do this one a bit differently," the Colonel said as the man stopped in front of me. I glanced over at the Colonel, as did my opponent. "You clearly have a very extensive amount of training, but you also claim to have a lot of strength. Tanner here is the strongest man the 26th Infantry has to offer."

"What do you want me to do? Have an arm wrestle with him?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow. Phillips' answering smirk was enough. I sighed, then shrugged. "Fine by me."

Within moments a small, square table was brought out, along with two crudely made chairs that honestly looked like they'd collapse under Tanner's weight. I sat down on one side, and he dropped into the chair opposite, looking very calm and collected. I glanced at his bulging arm muscles again, and I began to wonder whether I'd actually win this one. Well, only one way to find out.

I rested my elbow on the wood, and he did the same, before the two of us grasped each other's hands. The Colonel patiently counted us in, and as soon as he met zero, Tanner's strength shoved against my arm. It took a bit of effort to keep my arm cemented in the middle, but I was glad to see it wasn't anywhere near my full strength. Tanner's eyes flashed to mine in astonishment, before I flexed. He lost an inch. He grit his teeth, almost growling as he tried to push my hand back, but then I applied my full strength and his hand went smashing into the table.

For a moment, there was a tense silence when everyone stared at Tanner, waiting for his reaction. He opened and closed his hand a few times, staring at it, before his eyes shifted to me. Then, much to everyone's surprise, he chuckled. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," he said wryly.

I cracked a grin. "I don't think that'll be necessary," I replied. I stood up and turned to face Phillips. "Well, Colonel?"

He kept his face professionally blank, before shaking his head in what seemed like disbelief and saying, "Unofficially... Welcome to the army."

* * *

I started training with the men the next morning. I dressed myself in combat trousers (Phillips had given me some of the men's uniform, because they didn't have any for women - not that I really cared), heavy, black boots, and a small, khaki green tank top. I knew there would be comments, but I had a plan for this.

So when I stepped out in front of the twenty men I'd been assigned to train this morning (I'd have twenty more this afternoon), many of them were staring at me with wide-eyed shock. "Alright, I know this is making you uncomfortable," I started, even as I started to pull my hair up into a practical ponytail, "but one of the best ways to become a superior fighter is to train yourself not to give away any emotions. By getting used to things that perhaps might make you uneasy, you are giving yourself better control over which emotions you reveal. If, for whatever reason, you find yourself face-to-face with your opponent, you are at an advantage if you don't give anything away through your face. Understood?"

They all nodded.

"Good. Now, by the mere fact you are in the army, you should have all had some basic combat training. What I am going to do is try many different fighting techniques with you all, so you can find the one that you are most comfortable with, and then I can help you to improve. It's personal training, in a way." I stopped in the middle of the line of men, facing them all, automatically putting my arms behind my back. "The direction this hand-to-hand training takes you will also help direct you to which weapon type you will be best with."

Once again, they all nodded. Then one of the smaller men asked, "How long will it take you to find out what we're best at?"

"If all goes to plan, today's sessions should be enough," I replied, smirking when I saw many of them blink in surprise. I chuckled. "It doesn't take long to get a feel for someone's skillset," I said, answering their unspoken question. "Now, I want everyone to head over to the running tracks. I need to evaluate a few things about your physique. Go on!"

The men jogged over to the area saved for running, and there were both long and short distance tracks crudely marked into the ground. I turned when I felt eyes on me, and I saw Colonel Phillips watching me from his tent. I rolled my eyes at his obvious doubt in my ability to teach, before following the men.

* * *

By the end of the day, I had put my forty men into five basic groups - those who excelled in speed, those who excelled in brute strength, those who excelled in agility, those who excelled in stamina, and those who were all-rounders. The men split into the groups with numbers of five, eight, seven, nine, and eleven, respectively. Today was a fairly easy day of training, as I'd been getting to know the guys and they were getting to know me a bit more. In fact, I learnt a bit about myself - like, for example, that I was unrelenting when I saw them starting to tire, and I liked to make jokes. I had no idea why, but almost more often than not I was making the guys laugh. I liked that.

When I entered the mess room for something to eat, my assigned forty were all sat at the same table, talking and laughing and (occasionally) complaining about their food. Ryan Abbott, one of my all-rounders, raised a hand when he saw me. "Come and take a seat, boss."

Shaking my head, I sat myself in between Kyle Hammond and Charles Walsh, who had shuffled up to give me some space. "How you doing, fellas?" I asked cheerfully, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my ear.

"Well, my leg muscles are somewhat sore, but the rest of me's doin' alright," Abbott answered with a shrug, and many of the others nodded in agreement. Only the strongest of the lot, and those who had a lot of stamina, did not.

I chuckled, giving him a teasing grin. "If today's training tired you out, Abbott, you're in for a _real_ shock tomorrow."

Abbott raised an eyebrow? "Oh? So what's the plan for tomorrow, then?"

"I'm splitting your training into closely-related groups. The ones of you who were picked for speed and agility will be training in the morning, regardless of which group you were in today, and the rest of you will be training in the afternoon. I have to teach you all different things based on your skills, so there will be no short or long straw this time - you'll all be pushed to your absolute limits."

A few of the guys groaned dramatically. "Looking forward to it, boss," Tanner grumbled, raising his drink at me from across the table.

I grinned. "Well, that's good to hear."

"Miss Moore."

I spun in my seat and gave the Colonel a mock-salute. "Sir," I said, grinning. "How can I be of service?"

"You're already doing what we need of you," he said gruffly. "Just came to report that you did well today."

I blinked. "Didn't realise I was in an exam, Colonel," I said, before shrugging. "I work in my own way," I told him. "If you didn't like it, I wouldn't have changed how I trained. But, on the plus side, you've got a good group of lads here. We're gonna get them up to scratch in no time."

"You sayin' we ain't already?" a faceless voice challenged.

I grinned and replied over my shoulder, in the guy's vague direction, "None of you can last longer than half a minute against me in a fight, soldier. I won't declare you up to scratch until you can last at least twice that."

"So that's a resounding 'no'," the voice said again.

I found myself smiling. "It's a resounding 'not yet'," I corrected. "I'll make fighters of you yet." I stood up, turning to face the Colonel again. "Just give me a shout if you need me," I told him.

"Where are you going?"

"Firing range," I answered. "Those lads can't be the only ones working. I've got to keep in shape as well."

* * *

I found myself relaxing as I listened to the sound of my gun split the quiet night air. Each of my bullets landed in the centre of the target, though even after six decades I still hadn't been able to do what James could and fire several bullets all into the same hole.

I removed the empty ammo clip from my gun and was just reaching for the next when I heard heavy footsteps approaching me. I couldn't see any defining facial features, but I recognised that gait and body shape anyway.

"What's up, Tanner?" I asked, slamming my newest ammo clip into my gun.

"Just came to see if you wanted company," he said with a shrug.

I paused and glanced at him. "Aren't you supposed to be resting for tomorrow? I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you decided to be nice."

He chuckled. "Banish the thought, boss. I'm fine - I don't sleep much anyway. 'Sides, the sound of your shooting would probably keep me up."

I lowered my gun. "I didn't think about that," I murmured, before pulling out the ammo clip again and placing it back on the table. I then put the gun down as well. "There's something strangely therapeutic about shooting," I commented idly. "Calms me down. Makes me feel in control."

"Say, where did you learn to fight like you do?" Tanner asked, frowning. "No offence, but you don't seem old enough to know how to fight so well."

I snorted. "I'm older than I look, trust me on that. But it's all about where you're trained. Some people are ruthless with their training. Those are the people who get results far more quickly. I was trained under people like that." I smiled sadly. "If you thought the army was bad, you have another thing coming if you ever end up where I was trained." _Which you might_ , a dark voice in the back of my head added. I stamped it down. "I don't like talking in detail about that place, but suffice to say they know how to make people into perfect little soldiers. I was one of those people."

"Were there others?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Though to my knowledge only two of us survived. Most died within the first few months. Those of us that didn't were... manipulated, I guess. But in ways you probably don't even want to imagine." I shook my head. "I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Sorry, boss. Was just curious, that's all."

"Curiosity is fine. Just don't let it get you into trouble," I said with a crooked grin. "Now get to bed, soldier. I'll make it an order if I have to."

He saluted, his voice teasing as he said, "Yes, ma'am," in a largely exaggerated southern accent, before he turned around and marched towards his tent.

I watched him go for a few seconds, before shaking my head. "If only you could see me now, James," I whispered to the emptiness in front of me. "You'd have a thing or two to say, I'm sure."


	4. 4 - New Orders

**A/N: Surprise! Two chapters in one day. You'll be pleased to here there's an appearance from Bucky next chapter, but for now, it's still just Daphne and the 26th. :)**

* * *

 **4 - New Orders**

The next four weeks passed quickly, with the men training first in combat, then with guns. At the end of each fortnight another tournament was staged. The longest match was thirty-eight seconds long after the first, and just under a minute with the second.

The morning after that I gave the guys an extra hour to sleep before hauling them all out of bed. For the first time, all forty men were stood in front of me for a training session.

"Alright," I said loudly, "I've been doing some thinking lately-"

"Generally a good thing," Francis Gooding commented, and the rest laughed.

I mock-glared at him. "Mind your tongue, Gooding," I said sternly. "Otherwise next time my thinking might include ways to cut it off." The guys laughed again, knowing I wasn't being serious. Gooding was a decent bloke, really, he just liked the sound of his own voice a little too much. "Anyway, I realised that not all of you guys have really met each other yet while working. So, I had a stupidly strange thought yesterday that gave me an idea about how to introduce you all to each other, and to help you create ties with one another. Bonds are what turn a group of guys into a team. So, I spent a lot of last night looking at your files. And there are a few guys I'd like to come up to the front. These guys are Morrell, Carrick, Dwyer, Finn and Stoke." Said men exchanged glances as they moved to stand in a line beside me. I handed a sealed envelope to Dwyer. "Your first instruction is in this envelope. Every one of you is to help out. But these guys are your leaders." Everyone nodded, though many seemed confused still. "By the time you come back, hopefully you'll be better in tune with each other, and, if all goes to plan, you'll probably be hating me a bit more too. Off you go."

I stepped to the side as the men gathered around Dwyer to hear him read the first instruction. Then they moved off towards the running tracks.

Colonel Phillips, whose presence I noticed a few seconds before he was stood beside me, said lowly, "You're not going with them?"

"Nah - I trust them to do what they're supposed to. By my estimation this shouldn't take them any less time than an hour, so if they're back before then, chances are they've skipped a step or two."

"Why are they going to hate you?"

I chuckled. "Because one of their instructions is to write a song."

Phillips stared at me like I'd gone mad. "Why?"

"To get their minds in sync with one another," I said simply. "Men in the army spend a lot of their free time doing things like singing, either to distract themselves or just for enjoyment. Besides, one day it might come in handy. Maybe they'll be split up. It could help some of them find each other." I shrugged. "I know someone who was trained like this. He said it really helped him and many others through..." I trailed off, eyes widening. After James had told me about his trainer, I'd mostly forgotten about her. I figured she was probably dead and that, if she wasn't, she wouldn't remember him anyway. I never really registered everything. He'd called her Evie. Evie... as in a nickname for someone named Evelyn. Someone who was an unrelenting trainer for the army. Who didn't like following orders. Who told the men she trained to write songs. As I stood in silence, barely noticing the Colonel's curious look, I realised that the Evie James had told me about was _me_. It had to be. The similarities were too damn close to be coincidence.

Which meant I'd be forced to face him again, and be forced to admit to myself that I was meeting a stranger wearing a familiar face.

On the plus side, Bucky wouldn't be enlisted for another three to four years. So I had time to steel myself for the inevitable.

"Helped them through... what?" Phillips asked, drawing me back to reality.

I swallowed thickly. "Helped them through a really tough time," I answered. "Excuse me." And then I walked away, my mind still trying to digest everything it had just realised.

* * *

By the time the guys came back, they were singing a bouncy tune at the tops of their voices. I was standing where I'd been when they left, arms folded across my chest, an amused smile on my face.

The song came to a smooth ending as the guys lined themselves up in front of me.

There was a beat of silence. "Have fun?" I asked with a smirk.

"Could've been worse," came a reply from further down the line.

I chuckled. "Well, you guys were successful at least. Any problems?"

"Just Mallory's ass," Warren teased, and the guys laughed at Mallory, who in turn just rolled his eyes.

I chuckled. "Well, that's good to hear. I want you guys to memorise that song, and sing it as often as you can. One day, you might find its the only thing that keeps you sane. Especially if you've got someone like me to train you." They grinned at me, and I smiled back. "Now go grab a bite to eat or something," I said by way of dismissing them, and they instantly started chattering. They seemed in astoundingly high spirits, and I was glad to see it. I honestly thought they'd come back grumpy and irritated because of what they'd been directed to do, but apparently my idea had the opposite effect.

"Miss Moore?" I turned to see one of younger soldiers, who wasn't part of the forty under my command, standing nervously in front of me.

"What is it, kid?" I asked, pulling my short hair out of its hold and letting it swing around my shoulders.

"You're wanted in the command tent, ma'am."

I nodded. "Thanks for the message, soldier." He smiled slightly, before walking away. I headed instantly towards the tent. When I entered, there was a tall man who'd never been on the camp before (at least not while I was there) standing beside the Colonel. "You wanted to see me, sir?" I asked, standing with my back straight and my arms by my sides.

Colonel Phillips nodded. "Yes, I did. Miss Moore, this here is Lieutenant-Colonel Miller of Fort Hamilton Army Base."

I nodded. "Sir," I greeted curtly, and I got a sharp nod in return from the man, who looked to be about a decade younger than Phillips.

"You're being transferred, Moore," Phillips said, and instantly I stiffened.

"Transferred?"

"Yes," he said, moving towards the table in front of him and picking up a piece of paper. He held it out to me, and I hesitantly took it. "I had to inform a few others that you were here, since you were never officially hired by the army. Since then I've been giving bi-weekly updates on the progress of both you and your men. Everyone is very impressed."

"Then why am I being transferred?" I asked, eyes scanning over the paper, finding dates and something that looked suspiciously like a timetable of sorts, but no reasoning.

Phillips sighed. "The men you've been training here are being deployed," he said. "Under your tutelage, they've been developing their skills far faster than they were expected to, and we just got news that one of our lines is in need of additional support. Since they won't be here, you won't have anyone to train. So, Miller here asked to move you back to Fort Hamilton."

"Back?" I frowned.

"Hamilton was where you and I first met," he said vaguely, and I knew then that the details of my arrival were not widely known. I was grateful for that.

I shrugged. "I didn't look it up," I stated simply. I let out a sigh. "When are the guys being moved?"

"A week today. You'll be moved on the same day. Keep this up, Moore; don't let them slack off this last week. If anything, work them harder. They need to be fully prepared for what's to come."

Shaking my head, I told him, "Out there, they're going to see things that no training can prepare you for. Those guys are gonna look at the faces around them, and they'll immediately know that _nobody_ expected anything like what they're going to face."

"Well, try to find a way to prepare them."

I clenched my jaw, but nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Once you arrive in New York, you'll be training the 69th Infantry Regiment," Miller said with a gruff voice, and I sent him a raised eyebrow in response.

"That's quite a famous group," I commented idly. Since joining the army I'd done a bit of research, and the 69th was known to many as the 'Fighting 69th', and had mostly been posted in France during the First World War.

Miller hummed. "Which is why you are needed," he said, and I gave him a look of confusion. Why me specifically? He gave me a rather poor attempt at a smile. "Every one of us agrees that your methods are somewhat unorthodox, however they have proven very effective. But also..."

I frowned. "What is it?"

Phillips sighed. "Europe is at war," he said simply. "If things go on as they did last time, it won't be long before we're in the same situation. We need as many trainers as possible, and if your methods are as successful every time as they have been this time, then we're going to have a formidable fighting force at our disposal."

I blinked a few times. I hadn't realised it was September already. "Europe is at war? Against whom?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Germany," Phillips answered. He shook his head. "For now, I want you to focus on getting the 26th as ready as they can get for the front line. Understood?"

"Of course," I said lowly. "Do you want me to break the news of their deployment as well?"

"That would be best," he replied, with a clear tone of dismissal in his voice. I nodded, glanced once more at Miller, only to see him staring at a map on the Colonel's table, then spun on my heel and left, mind reeling.

I walked towards the mess room in a kind of half-daze, following the sounds of my group's revelry. I stood in the doorway for a few minutes, watching them talk and laugh with a bittersweet smile on my face. Against all odds, I'd become close to those guys in the short time I'd been training them. Some more than others, but all of them could be called a friend. I was gonna miss them. I was gonna miss Abbott's joking complaints, and Gooding's constant need to talk, and Walsh's hysterical attempts at flirting with me, and, more than most, I was going to miss Tanner. He'd been a surprisingly constant presence by my side, and despite his buff outer appearance, he was a great guy on the inside. In a way, he reminded me a bit of Steve, though there was less of the patriotism (among other things).

"What you doin' hangin' in the shadows, boss?" Jeffreys called over the din. "Come join us."

I shook my head, stepping forward. "I have some news for you boys," I said, and suddenly the room fell dead silence. You could have heard a pin drop. I sighed. "You're being deployed," I told them.

Faces fell all across the room.

"When?" Alsworth asked.

"A week," I replied. "You're being sent off to support another group on the front line."

"What about you?"

"I'm being moved as well," I said. "Word about me gets around, apparently. I've been transferred to Fort Hamilton to train the 69th."

"Congrats, boss," Tanner said, raising a mug. "That's a tough group, I hear."

"I've heard the same," I murmured, slipping into a seat at the end of the table. "All the same, I'm gonna miss you bastards."

A few of them chuckled, while the rest cracked variously sized grins. "Aw, we're gonna miss you too, boss," Walsh said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and giving me a one-armed hug. I batted him away, making the others laugh. "One day," Walsh said, "I'm gonna convince you to let me take you on a date."

"That one day's a long time coming, Walsh," I teased with a grin. "This lady here is already taken."

Many of the guys oohed, as if that was the juiciest piece of gossip they'd heard in a long time. Upon reflection, I figured that was probably the case. "So who's the lucky fella?" Jeffreys questioned with a crooked grin.

"No one you know I can assure you," I said quickly. "He and I were trained together."

"Isn't there a 'thing' where it's a stupid idea to date your workmates?" Hoffman asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

I scoffed. "To call him my workmate is a bit inaccurate," I told him. "Though we were partners for a long time."

"So, what's he like?"

And just like that, I froze. Talking about him being my partner was one thing. Talking about _him_ was another entirely, as it turned out. Suddenly my throat tightened up, and a deep ache grew between my eyes. I shook my head. "I'd rather not talk about it," I murmured.

"Why? You end on a bad note?"

I snorted. "Not exactly. Last time I saw him was two and a half years ago," I informed them. "And I was shot. He probably thinks I'm dead."

"So why not go find him?"

"It's not that simple," I muttered. I stood up. "0700 tomorrow, gents. All of you."

As I walked away, I couldn't hold back the few tears that fell from my eyes. I thought being away from James would get easier over time, but the pain remained just as fresh as that first day. In fact, if anything, it had gotten worse. I didn't want to think about what he was doing back in 2014. I didn't want to think about him at all, because it just hurt that much more each time. I was going to have to wait 75 more years before I could see him again. I wasn't sure I could wait that long. For all my physical strength and bravado, I knew I was weak and broken on the inside.

As it turned out, even when I was far beyond their reach, Hydra was still destroying my life.


	5. 5 - Some People Are Very Stupid

**A/N: Peer pressure. You made me do this. Actually, that's only half true. I just wanted to let you know that this particular fic is about twice as long as the last two have been. I've planned it all out - there'll be just under 30 chapters, including the epilogue. So hopefully I can keep you interested that long ;)**

 **Big thanks to: bunny-chan66, paulalightwood, AnahMarie1125 and AllisonMark for following/favouriting. Considering I only updated yesterday, that's really encouraging to see. Thanks, guys :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Lara Barnes: Heh, I'm glad. This plan has been in the making for a while, so I've been trying to drop-feed a few little details. I'm glad some of them are being noticed :P**

 **Croziff: Aaaaand another!**

 **TMNTGirl: Well, it's been about 8 hours since that review. How did your patience last? ;)**

 **paulalightwood: Aww, thanks :) Happy to have you with me.**

* * *

 **5 - Some People Are Very Stupid**

That final week at Camp Edwards passed far too quickly for my liking, and before long I was saying goodbye to the 26th Infantry. They made the most of it though, waking me up by dumping a bucket of cold water over my head. The guy that did that - Gregory Parish, as it turned out - ended up being flung ten feet out of my tent. It was definitely something to laugh about later.

I actually left the camp before they did, and just before I did the guys presented me with a roughly made but sturdy leather wrist band. A small stone with '26th' carved into the front was tied to the bracelet.

"So you won't forget us, boss," Abbott said as he handed it to me.

I chuckled, taking the bracelet and immediately tying it around my wrist. "As if I could ever forget you guys," I said with a grin. "And hey, who knows? Maybe we'll see each other again."

"Hope so, boss."

I waved over my shoulder at the guys and got a few waves back, before I climbed into the Jeep beside Lieutenant-Colonel Miller and the two of us left Camp Edwards.

* * *

I got settled quickly into Fort Hamilton, and after that I was informed that, because I'd been transferred, by regulation I had to be hired. So now I had a salary. And a title - First Sergeant. That was a nice surprise.

It wasn't long before I had found a flat to rent, slightly bigger than the one I'd been in last time I was here. I didn't even properly unpack before I started to wander around Brooklyn again. Against all odds, walking the familiar streets was quite relaxing. I found myself wondering if Agatha still worked in the same little diner as when I left, and then suddenly my feet had taken me to said diner. I entered without thinking about it, and the first thing I heard was Agatha's pleasant laugh over the gentle sound of chatter.

I smiled after hearing my friend, but then froze up at the sight of who she was serving. The younger girl I didn't really know, but I'd know the older of the two anywhere. Just my luck. My first day back in Brooklyn and already I'm running into the future man of my life. Sighing internally, I figured I might as well suck it up and get over the fact I was always going to have to face this particular hurdle eventually. So I moved towards my friend, not ignorant to the flash of recognition in Bucky's eyes when he saw me. Agatha followed Bucky's gaze, and when she saw me I didn't even have a chance to prepare myself before she all but barrelled me over, her arms wrapping tightly around my neck.

"Okay, yeah, hi," I laughed, hugging her back, hoping internally that she wouldn't notice the weapons hidden in the folds and pockets of my new jacket. When Agatha pulled away she was wear a face-splitting grin. "Didn't realise it'd been _that_ long, Ags," I teased.

Agatha pouted and hit my arm. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?"

"And ruin the surprise? No chance."

"Miss Kendall!"

Agatha winced. "Sorry," she said hurriedly. "Stay here, don't move. My shift ends in just over an hour. I want you to tell me _everything_."

I saluted. "Yes, ma'am." I couldn't help but shake my head and laugh to myself as Agatha ran off to keep working.

"We've met before, haven't we?"

Hiding the jolt in my body when I heard Bucky's voice was harder than I wanted to admit, but I managed to keep it off my face at least, when I turned to face him. "Briefly," I confirmed. "I hit a guy."

He laughed. "Yeah, that's right. You saved Steve."

"I'm sure he would have been fine without me," I said with a shrug.

Bucky hesitated, glanced over at the girl sitting opposite him, then gestured to the seat beside him. "Since you've been instructed to stay here, why don't you have a seat?"

"Oh, I-"

"Come on," he said with a grin. "I don't bite. And even if I did, you'd probably throw me through a window anyway."

I chuckled, nodding. "You're not wrong." Resigning myself to my fate, I slid into the booth beside a very young Bucky Barnes.

"Evelyn, this is my little sister, Rebecca. She's just turned thirteen, and is entirely too proud about it."

Rebecca pouted at her brother, but I couldn't help but smile. "Nice to meet you, Miss Barnes," I said. "And between you and me, thirteen is a milestone for many. You're officially a teenager now. Ignore him - he's just jealous that he's already gone past that stage."

"I know," Rebecca said simply, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"I like her."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Great. Well, I hope you guys don't end up teaming up with each other. Between your fighting skills and Becca's knack for talking one's ear off, I'm not gonna stand a chance."

Rebecca and I exchange grins.

"Thanks for the information, Barnes," I said simply. Calling him Barnes wasn't easy, but it was easier than Bucky either way. "I'll keep that in mind for later, just in case you _really_ annoy me."

Bucky stared at me for a few seconds, then sighed dramatically. "I'm doomed."

Rebecca giggled. "You'd better watch out, _James_ ," she said with a grin that looked borderline evil. It was honestly very hard to match this little fireball of a girl with the placid old woman from the 21st Century. "One wrong step and I can call Evelyn to put you in your place."

I couldn't help but grin. "Believe me, honey, all you have to do is ask," I said sweetly.

"Anyway," Bucky said hurriedly, and I sent him a wink when he mock-pouted at me. "What are you up to these days, Evie?"

"Don't call me that," I said instantly, feeling a thrum of pain in my heart. _Evie._ That's what James called her - me. This was it, I was sure. Evie was me. I was her. There could be no more doubting it. "But, in answer to your question, I've been hired by the army to train some of their soldiers."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his expression dubious. "Really?"

"Do you want me to remind you how easily I can put a guy on his ass?" I asked pleasantly, and Rebecca giggled again. I fiddled with the bracelet on my wrist absentmindedly, shrugging. "It's fine - I wasn't really expecting you to believe me, anyway." _But it still hurts that you didn't._ That bit remained unspoken, of course.

"No, it's nothing like that," he tried to assure me. "I have absolutely no doubt in your abilities, both to fight and to teach. I just thought the army didn't accept women to fight, let alone _train_ their men."

I smiled, marginally mollified. "Ah, well, I've only just been hired. I trained the 26th Infantry for a while, unofficially. Once I got asked to transfer to Fort Hamilton, they had no choice but to hire me as one of them."

"And was that something you got from the army?" Bucky asked, pointing towards the bracelet.

I nodded, running my finger over the semi-smooth stone. "Yeah. The guys in the 26th gave this to me before they were deployed and I was moved. As a way to remember them, or so they said. I think we all know I'm not gonna forget those guys any time soon."

"That special, huh?"

"They were my first group," I said simply. "And there wasn't a single one of them I didn't like. They worked hard, they did as I asked, and they just... got things done. And then, when I was off duty, they treated me like one of them. That... meant something special, yeah."

"Well, I'm glad you're happy there."

I scoffed. "I haven't met my new group, yet," I informed him. "For all I know, they're gonna be the complete opposite."

"Oh, come on, I doubt-"

Bucky was cut off by the sound of gunshots. Everyone in the diner gasped and automatically ducked when two of the large windows suddenly shattered, littering glass on tables, seats, and all over the tile floor. I was on my feet in a second, giving Bucky a pointed look, before shifting my eyes to Rebecca, whose expression of absolute terror was enough to disarm even the coldest of people. While I turned to face down the people attacking the diner, Bucky moved from his seat to sit right next to his little sister, pulling her into his arms and covering nearly her whole body with his. I could picture the frantic expression on his face all too clearly. I hated it, but it gave me another reason to fight. So that face might disappear.

Everyone else was either cowering in their chairs or trying to make a run for it. The first two to do so got shot down in seconds, blood spraying everywhere. More screams. Everyone else who'd tried to run retreated back to their seats, shaking. The people attacking the diner finally entered, stepping through the gaps where windows used to be, the broken glass crunching under their feet. There were three of them, all bearing admittedly impressive guns. I made a quick mental note of their appearances. Black hair, mid-tone skin, brown eyes, slight limp in the left leg. Brown hair, pale skin, blue eyes, large moustache. And the third, who looked no more than about eighteen, who had ginger hair, freckles across his nose, green eyes and a tall, thin frame. The gun he held trembled in his unsteady hands as he followed the other two inside.

"Everyone hand over your money," the first man, with the black hair, shouted, and people scrambled to dig out purses and handbags and wallets.

"No," I said firmly. "No one is going to hand anything over." I squared my shoulders, stood completely still with my legs a foot or so apart, and my hands folded firmly over my chest. Most of my instincts told me that this was going to turn into a bloodbath. And a small part of my mind, one I thought (hoped) had been eradicated completely, was looking forward to it. "Everyone put your bags away. Don't give anything over." Remarkably, not a single person disobeyed me, though many blatantly considered it for a moment.

The brown haired man bared his teeth, revealing the fact he was missing a lower lateral incisor. He raised his gun and pointed it directly at my chest. I didn't so much as flinch, though my hands inched under the folds of my jacket towards the two FN GP35s I'd stashed there. And if they didn't work, I'd always have my selection of knives and daggers.

"You don't give the orders here, doll," he said.

Instantly I'd drawn both pistols, pointing them at the clear ringleaders, while the red haired boy in the back stumbled back a step, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. My expression had become icy cold, eyes hard and swimming with barely-contained fury. "No one calls me that," I growled. "And I think you'll find I _do_ give the orders. One wrong move and I can blow you into the 21st Century, buddy." It was difficult to tell who the customers of the diner were more afraid of - me, or the other guys.

"Oh, well, in that case, _doll_ ," the guy said with a grin, "you can meet me there." And then he shifted his gun and fired a single bullet. I grunt left my lips as the bullet tore through my torso, only just missing my ribcage. Probably hit a vital organ on the way. But I'd faced worse. I'd survived worse. And I'd heal quickly. Give it ten hours, and it would be like it had never happened.

The people in the diner were crying or shouting or cursing or simply staring at me in shock. I remained standing, feeling my blood ooze out of the wound. The guys in front of me looked like I was insane, no doubt expecting me to have collapsed or at least _moved_. Part of me wondered why I hadn't done anything yet. Why I hadn't raised my guns and shot the guys in front of me. No one could argue that they'd deserve it - they'd shot and killed two people. Tried to kill a third.

The knowledge that Rebecca and Bucky were behind me, no doubt watching the whole thing, proved to be the thing that kept me from doing that. Instead, I calmly walked up to the men in front of me, noticing the expressions of fear on their faces. "You have ten seconds," I said lowly. "Run."

They did exactly that, only one of them keeping hold of his gun. I watched impassively as they stumbled their way onto the streets, only to skid to a halt when the saw the mob of people waiting for them just outside the diner. This was by no means a busy street, but that didn't make it deserted. There were enough people outside to stop the three guys in their tracks. Four of the crowd members wore army uniform. One of them was Lieutenant-Colonel Miller.

"I think that's quite far enough, boys," the man said with a grim smile, the three solders flanking him moving forward to grab the guys. The man still holding the gun tried to raise it and shoot Miller, but I beat him to it. My bullet went straight through his hand, causing him to drop the gun with a cry of pain. Miller looked at me, nodding. "First Sergeant Moore," he said curtly.

"Sir," I greeted in return, stepping out of the diner and pocketing my guns. "Just those two," I said, pointing at the older ones. "Let the boy go free. He didn't do anything." The man holding the red haired kid reluctantly let go, and after sending me a wide-eyed look, the kid ran off. He was almost tripping over his own feet as he fled from the scene, the crowd having left a pathway for him to go through.

"You're hurt," Miller noted, though there was only the vaguest hint of concern. He eyed the still-bleeding bullet wound warily.

I shrugged. "I've been through worse," I told him honestly. "And I heal fast. I'll be fine."

"The bullet may have hit your liver," he pointed out.

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I repeated, "I'll be fine _._ "

He stared at me with obvious doubt, but in the end decided to trust my word. Or, at the very least, figured it wasn't worth the effort to push his point. He waved his hand vaguely at the guys with him. "Take them to the cops," he ordered dismissively. "Let them deal with these bastards." He turned back to me. "0700 tomorrow morning, Miss Moore. There are soldiers expecting to be trained."

"I'll be there," I assured him, crudely tearing away the bottom of my skirt and using the scrap material as a temporary bandage. I'd have to wrap it properly once I'd removed the bullet. Miller nodded approvingly, before sharply ordering everyone to vacate the area.

I stood back and watched, sending Bucky a questioning look as he passed and mouthing, ' _Are you both alright?'_

He hesitated, glancing down at a clearly very shaken Rebecca Barnes, before nodding once. I returned the nod, then wordlessly let the future-Sergeant usher his sister away. Agatha was one of the last to leave the diner, and when she did, her whole body was trembling. I took her hand in my own, both of us choosing to ignore the blood smattering my palm, then gently began to lead her away from the diner and towards my new flat. It was only a matter of time before the shock wore off. And I knew we'd both want to be away from public eyes when that moment came.


	6. 6 - The Truth Always Reveals Itself

**A/N: So this chapter is pretty much 4,000 words long. Not sure how that happened, but hey ho. I guess it makes up for the shorter one a few chapters back. Hope you enjoy it, for there is a little surprise section put in here (you'll know it when you see it)!**

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 **angelAnabiel: Glad to hear it, and thanks for commenting :)**

* * *

 **6 - The Truth Always Reveals Itself**

It took fifteen or so minutes after I walked Agatha into my flat for her to finally break down. The first ten of those minutes I was in the bathroom, carefully prying out the bullet from my stomach and then tightly wrapping a bandage around my whole torso. After that I moved to find something to help keep Agatha from panicking too much. I was in the kitchen, just about to put the kettle on the stove, when suddenly I heard my young friend burst into tears.

I wasn't good at the whole 'comfort' thing, having never really had to utilise those skills, but sometimes I knew when there was only one thing I could really do. So I sat down next to her and pulled her to me, gently stroking her hair as her fingers gripped my clothes and her tears dampened the fabric. I said nothing. And she said nothing. We just sat there, holding each other, with Agatha drawing in the comfort I offered.

It was another hour before she'd completely settled.

By that time night had fallen, and the city life had dulled to a low, distant hum. I continued to rock Agatha back and forth, listening as her breathing settled and slowed, and then suddenly her body was limp. I smiled sadly to myself, knowing Agatha wouldn't be sleeping peacefully tonight. Not after experiencing that. Not many can go through such an experience for the first time and not come out the other side utterly traumatised.

I gently gathered the woman in my arms and picked her up, not even really having to strain myself as I carried her to my bedroom. I would sleep on the sofa. Hopefully waking up in an unfamiliar environment wouldn't freak Agatha out too much, but having me within a few steps would, in theory, help to keep her calm if she did.

I lay on my back, head resting against the arm of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, I started to think about what had happened.

There had been a moment. A moment when the line between Daphne Sparrow and Silverthorn had become blurred. And in that moment, I hadn't been sure which part of me was going to end up on top. I thought I had managed to push my darkness back. Maybe I had. But in the last two years, it had been creeping forward again. And I didn't have James here with me to remind me why I was fighting it. My morals and my desire to do good weren't enough, it seemed. Or if they were, it was only barely. I needed my James back. I needed that measure of reassurance and love that I always got from him. It was such a foreign idea now. And I hated that. I hated that what we had was slipping away from me.

Part of me wondered how much good it would do to get to know Bucky. Part of me wondered whether that 'good' would outweigh the pain of knowing this man was not the same as the man I had come to know and love. The rest of me was almost too cowardly to even consider it.

I couldn't wait until the end of the century and beyond before seeing him. I wasn't strong enough. And each day I felt some more of my strength wasting away.

When I fell asleep that night, I did so with tears in my eyes.

* * *

 **~ 2014 ~**

It had been three days. Three days since Zale Beritt had taken away his sole reason for existing.

If he ever stopped to dwell for even a fraction of a second his face would quickly become wet with tears. They would roll silently into his cracked lips, salty and cold.

James wished he could say he couldn't fathom why God would give him someone so good only to snatch them away again, but the darker part of him mind never ceased to remind him of all the lives he'd taken. All the lives he'd ruined. And he was convinced this was the sort of pain he deserved.

He figured Daphne was safe in God's realm, loved and warm, but he couldn't reach her there. He saw it as hopelessly cruel that the sun continued to rise, to welcome in each new day devoid of Daphne's laughter or even her grumpy complaints and the sarcastic commentary he loved for some reason. He wanted to hear her snort at something stupid he or someone else said or did. Instead all he got was endless silence and pitying looks from his comrades.

He didn't need their pity.

He needed his Daphne back.

The worst part was the fear. People always told him the pain would dull with time, and that things would get better. But how could things get better when the reason the pain wouldn't be as bad anymore was because he'd have forgotten? Over time, the memory of Daphne's presence would escape his mind. He would no longer see her face in strangers, and the things they once shared would no longer bring those tears to his eyes. If getting past the pain meant forgetting her, then he chose to suffer for the rest of life. Because he refused to forget her. Ever. Not after everything they'd done together. After everything they'd done _for_ each other.

His metal fist slammed against the punching bag in front of him, snapping the chain and sending the bag careening into the wall ten feet away. He stood there, breathing heavily, eyes closed. His face was screwed up in concentration as he focused on everything that would slowly kill him inside. The colour of Daphne's eyes. The texture of her blonde hair. The softness of her skin, broken by the litter of faint scars here and there. The sound of her laughter. The way her whole face lit up when she smiled. Not one of those fake or half-hearted smiles, but the ones that might as well have been born of sunbeams. The callouses of her hands as they pressed against his face. The soft firmness of her lips as they caressed his. Her warmth. The feel of her hand in his. He tried so hard to remember every little detail of it all. And each second he thought of all the things he loved about her, his heart cracked just that little bit more.

But if it kept her alive in his head, he would willingly deliver his soul to the Devil. The pain was the least of his worries.

James barely stirred when the door to his left opened, but after a second he nonetheless reluctantly opened his tired eyes to see that purple haired Agent walk in. He hadn't really noticed the weight of his eyelids before now. He hadn't slept since that day. He could feel his body trembling with fatigue. But he didn't want to have to face the nightmares. So each night he came down here, to the training room, and spent the night pushing his body to its limits. The exercise cleared his head of exhaustion, but it did nothing to help with the pain.

Agent Silva's face was pale, and the dark circles under her eyes suggested she hadn't slept for a while either. In her hand was a file. He eyed it warily as she walked up to him. It was thick. Very thick. He didn't want to know what was inside it, because he could guess.

Nonetheless, Agent Silva dropped the file on the floor at his feet. Her eyes held no pity, for which he was glad. He couldn't deal with any more damnable _pity_. "When you have the time, look at this," she said gruffly, her voice strained. Like she'd just woken from sleep. Or hadn't used it for a while. "I know it will be hard, but there are things in there I think you'll want to see."

"I already know everything I need to know about her," he said glumly, moving to pick up another punching bag.

"No," Silva said firmly, "you don't." The conviction in her voice made him pause. He stared at her, brows furrowed. "There's a lot about Daphne that you _don't_ know, Barnes," she told him. "It's been scattered around for years, but I've spent the past few days locating it all and ordering it all. Everything you need to know is in that file. If you can bring yourself to read it, I can promise that you won't regret it. If you want to talk about it, seek me out when you're done."

When Agent Silva turned and walked away, James' eyes picked up the slightest of trembles in her stance. He wondered briefly about the cause for it, but then his eyes drifted to Daphne's file. In Russian, written on the front of the file, were the words, ' _Asset 29'._ It was a Hydra file, then. Or at least, it had started off that way. But James knew that Agent Silva was not Hydra. He'd have noticed if she were. So she must have added information from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s old databases.

The way the file sat there on the floor, looking so innocent, made him want to throw it in a fire and watch until there was nothing left of it. But it looked too thick. Too thick to contain all the information he knew. Maybe there _was_ more. Maybe there were things about Daphne Sparrow that even he didn't know.

But he couldn't bring himself to open the file just yet. So he picked up another punching bag, hung it in place, and started his night of training all over again.

* * *

 **~ 1939 ~**

"Hey."

Agatha's meek voice interrupted me from my task, not that it was very important - I was still moving into my flat, so I'd been organising my collection of books into the bookshelves. I had to admit, most of them were on Norse mythology. There were a couple of history books there too, along with a decent collection of novels mostly written by F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway. There were also two Agatha Christie books and a T. S. Eliot play.

I turned to see Agatha with ruffled hair and smudged makeup, looking like she'd gone through hell. "Hey," I said softly. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Coffee would be great, thanks," she replied, moving to sit on my chair.

It was at least another twenty minutes before either of us spoke again, and in that time I wondered whether I could do it. Unable to sleep, I'd spent much of the night dwelling over whether or not it would be best to tell her. To tell her everything. Who I was. Where I'd come from. Because she would ask. She'd ask where I'd learnt to fire a gun with such a precision. We both knew a few weeks with the army couldn't train me that well. No one could learn to shoot that accurately in such a short time. I'd toyed with the idea of lying - saying I'd been aiming for his shoulder, or something. But she wouldn't believe me, and I didn't want to go back to that again. I didn't want to go back to being a liar. Especially not to one of my only friends. I didn't care she was a decade younger than me (at least in body).

So when she finally spoke again, I had convinced myself I was going to bear my soul to her, and hope it wouldn't scare her off.

"You didn't learn that from your father, did you?"

Of all the questions to come out of her mouth, I had to admit that wasn't one of the ones I was expecting. "No," I said solemnly, staring down at my empty mug. A few undissolved coffee beans were sat on the bottom. "He'd have been a pretty crap father if I had," I added, as if hoping my attempt at humour would make it better.

Idiot.

Agatha looked at me, her eyes simultaneously boring into me and phasing right through me. It was... well, unnerving, to say the least. "So where did you learn?"

"That's... a long story."

"Evelyn..."

I shook my head. "I'm not trying to avoid answering the question, Ags," I said softly. "But it is a _very_ long story, and it's not exactly a believable one either."

"Tell me," she urged, though she didn't sound all that convinced that she even wanted to know.

I breathed a sigh through my nose. "I was trained by Hydra," I told her. "A Nazi science division. Or so they'd have you believe. It's actually centuries old, a cult bent on world domination, though of course it was known differently back then. It faded into the background a long time ago." I sighed. "Listen, Ags, I have a long and _very_ dark history. It's not pretty, by any means. Are you sure you want to know?"

"I think I'd rather know than continue to blunder blindly."

"You might wish you hadn't said that," I warned, but she just sent me a pointed look that told me she wasn't going to back down. "Okay, fine. Well, here's where it gets complicated." I mentally steeled myself, then said, "I was born September 11th 1999." She just blinked at me. "In 2016, something really strange happened. I don't know how and I probably never will, but myself and a friend of mine got dragged from my home into Hydra's hands... in 1953. They took us in. Trained us to fight and to kill for three years. After that they injected us with what the world will come to know as the supersoldier serum - something created in '43 in an effort to..." I paused. "Well, we can come back to that. The serum killed my friend. Possibly. There might be a chance she survived it, but... changed. Anyway, it reacted as planned with me. I got stronger. Faster. I heal extraordinarily quickly. I have a higher resistance to pain than a normal human. And I can survive a lot worse, too. My metabolism is around four times higher than everyone else's. After that, they partnered me up with someone the world will come to know as the Winter Soldier. But I knew him differently."

"James," she murmured.

"What?"

"That's who he is, right? This 'Winter Soldier'. He's James; the man you love."

I smiled weakly. "Well, yes, but I didn't know him as James back then. He was Shadow. And to him, I was Silver. To the rest of the world, I was Silverthorn. Hydra shaped us into the perfect killers. Not only did they train us to fight, they also took away our memories. So we'd have no ties but them. Nothing to make us doubt what we were doing was right. For more than fifty years they sent us out to kill people for their benefit, sometimes alone, sometimes together. After each mission we'd be put into cryogenic storage so our bodies wouldn't waste away. Once we were thawed, we'd be put into a chair and they'd wipe us again. But after a while, we started to build up a resistance to it. We remembered each other. Every single time, we'd leave whichever Hydra base we were in, and we'd know who the other was. He was just about my only friend for that whole time period." I fell silent, a bittersweet smile on my face. Those times were awful, but I'd never want to forget them, because I'd be forgetting the foundations of our relationship. And I wanted to remember all of it. Our whole time together.

"So what happened?" Agatha asked, amazingly not looking at me like I'd lost it completely. She seemed... almost enamoured.

"We decided enough was enough," I said simply. "Hydra kept us away from the wipe machines long enough for the guilt to move in, and for us to realise that everything we'd been instructed to do was tearing us apart from the inside. So we planned to escape. It didn't exactly work out the way we'd expected, but hey, we got out. And Hydra took a serious hit in the process. We tried to go back to being... relatively normal, after that. We went back to the places we grew up in the hopes of gaining more of our memories. We ran into James' younger sister in Brooklyn. But Hydra came after us when we went back to England. They captured us. Experimented on us again."

"Experimented?" Agatha repeated, frowning in concern. "What did they do?"

"It's difficult to say, since we were both unconscious at the time. But I have a hunch it was something to do with the fact I was pregnant not long after."

Agatha blinked. "Oh."

I smiled wryly. "Oh, indeed." I shook my head. "After that, things kind of just fell apart. We tried to go back to being just like everyone else again, but Hydra was waiting for us. James and I... we have trigger words. Words that cause our minds to shut down so the only thing we can do is follow orders. Mine were used. Next thing I know, I'm tied up in an unfamiliar place. James came after me, of course, but his stubborn refusal to leave when I all but begged him to do so got him captured."

"When was this?"

"2014."

"So how did you end up back here?"

"There was a woman - Mariana Silva. She came with James when he tried to rescue me. She... saved my life, I guess." I held up the necklace. "She gave me this. You know when we first met, I told you I was looking for a job that included knowledge about Norse myths?" She nodded. "That was a lie. I was looking for that information because this necklace is one of the Infinity Stones. I was trying to find out a way to get it to work so I could go back. No luck there. But the bearer of this Stone is forced to exist by the Stone itself, so when the man who kidnapped me fired a bullet at me, instead of being killed, I was taken back to 1937. I lost my baby in the process. Five days later, I find you in an alleyway. And the rest, as they say, is history."

Agatha was silent for a long time, chewing her bottom lip as her mind digested that. It was a lot to take in, this I knew. "So... Is Evelyn Moore your real name?"

Another question that surprised me. I let out a quick laugh, shaking my head. "No, I did that to try to stop things getting messy. Time travel is... well, dangerous. My real name is Daphne Sparrow."

Agatha frowned. "Why would things get messy?"

I sighed. "James was captured by Hydra a whole decade before me. He got out, briefly, but it wasn't long before he was back with them. He was born in 1917, and he lives in Brooklyn. I know him. This version of him, anyway. How do you think the James I know would react if he suddenly remembered he'd known me all the way back in the 30s? Besides, if I can't find a way to get the Time Stone to work, I'm just going to have to _live_ through the next seven and a half decades before I can see him again. If I kept my real identity, there'd be two versions of the same person at once. That's dangerous."

"Wait, so the guy you love exists? Now? In this city?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Except he doesn't know me yet. And, honestly, they're really different."

"Well, who is he? I might know him."

I chuckled. "I know you do." Her confused expression made me smile. "You were serving him yesterday in the diner, along with the little sister I mentioned earlier."

Agatha's eyes widened. "You're in love with _Bucky Barnes?!_ "

I shook my head. "No, I'm in love with _James_ Barnes. Trust me, the two are very different. Bucky hasn't gone through the traumatising stuff yet. That... changes you. They're essentially two different people, except they sound the same and look vaguely similar."

"Why only vaguely?"

"Ah, well, James has a bit of a scruff thing going on," I said, stroking my chin to ensure she knew what I meant. "He's also got longer hair and a metal arm."

"A metal arm? Why?"

"Because... he lost his real one," I said simply. "In the war."

"What war?"

"Have you heard about the war going on in Europe?"

Agatha nodded. "Of course."

"Well, that war's not going to stay confined to one continent. America's gonna get dragged in as well. So is some of Asia. And the north of Africa."

"When?"

"For America, it'll be December 7th 1941. Japan will attack Pearl Harbour, in Hawaii. After that, the U.S. will declare war on Japan, Italy and Germany will declare war on the U.S., who of course respond likewise, and before you know it America is involved in the Second World War."

"Is that what they call it?"

I scoffed. "If you thought the Great War was bad, you've another thing coming. This is hundreds of times worse."

Agatha was quiet again, that frown still present on her face. An expression of surprise flickered over her face. "Wait, hold on a second," she said. She started mouthing something to herself, before she blinked again and turned to me with an almost betrayed expression on her face. I held my breath, waiting for the onslaught I'd been expecting from the start. "Why didn't you tell me yesterday was your birthday?!"

I raised an eyebrow, surprised for the third time that morning by the question that escaped her lips. "Because I've just turned 80," I stated blandly. "That's not a milestone I want to think about."

Agatha hit my arm. "You still should have told me, even if you didn't plan on doing anything special."

"Well," I said, mock-lightly, "I did help stop an attempted armed burglary. I'm pretty sure that counts as something special."

Agatha rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless," she grumbled. There was another pause, before she sent me a coy smile that instantly had me on edge. "So... if you're in love with the Bucky from the future, does that make the Bucky from this era available? Because I wouldn't say 'no' to a few tips on how to attract the attention of a guy like that."

I flopped back against the back of the sofa, letting out a loud groan as I did. Which promptly had Agatha bursting into laughter. It wasn't long before I joined in.


	7. 7 - So Much For Anonymity

**A/N: No Bucky or James in this one. Sorry, but I still hope you enjoy it :)**

 **Big thanks to: ajblake, RoseWolf21, PaintingTheRosesReddishPink, AnimeLoverInfinity and TMNTGirl for following/favouriting. Thanks a million, guys! Means a lot :)**

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 **angelAnabiel: Yeah, I hated doing that to James, but it's a good writing opportunity nonetheless. Thanks for reading, and I'm glad you're enjoying it.**

* * *

 **7 - So Much For Anonymity**

Amazingly, Agatha let me up about the whole shooting-the-guy-in-the-hand thing, and she seemed woefully unconcerned about the rest of my dark past. In fact, if anything, she seemed more and more eager to meet up with me. She would be constantly pestering me on information about James, which I flat-out refused to give because, despite the fact James and Bucky were so different, the thought of Bucky dating another girl was not one I liked. The first time she brought it up I chose to remind her that she already had a guy of her own. At which point she admitted she'd broken up with him half a month before.

Damn. One excuse down.

Two weeks to the day after the diner disaster (as we'd come to call it (which was her idea, by the way)), Agatha approached me with a strange question.

"Can I come and see you work?"

I stared blankly at her. "What?"

"I want to see how you train the guys at Fort Hamilton," she said simply.

"Why?"

Agatha frowned. "I've been thinking about what you said... about the war and how bad it's going to be. And I've decided I want to help. I've signed up for military medical training. I don't know whether I'll get in yet but... I wanted to see what it's like in a base camp."

"It'll be very different for you," I told her. "The nurses and the soldiers have very different jobs and very different working environments. They might as well be on two entirely different planets."

"Please, Eve, I just want to know what I'm getting myself into."

I sighed through my nose, before saying, "Fine. I'll see if I can get Miller to let you in. What day?"

"Uh, Friday...?"

"You don't sound so certain."

"I can do whenever, really, since I'm currently unemployed. I didn't want to go too soon and seem... I don't know... desperate, I guess."

I nodded. "Alright. I'll ask Miller which day is best, and relay that onto you. Deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

As it turned out, Miller didn't really care who I did or didn't bring onto the base, as long as they stayed out of the way and stayed out of trouble. The 69th was a company of pretty respectable men, so I didn't anticipate any problems. So I brought Agatha in on the Friday, having dropped by her house and all but forced her to change out of her pale blue, flowery dress and into something more suitable. She clearly wasn't a trousers and t-shirt kind of girl. I bluntly told her that she'd probably have to get used to it if she wanted to be a nurse. She'd stopped complaining after that.

I told Agatha to wait by the side of the line while I addressed the guys.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, I've got company today," I said, getting straight to the point. A few men mumbled the affirmative. "This is Agatha Kendall. She's here just to observe for today, as she's signed up to be an army nurse. I want every one of you to treat her the same way you treat me, is that understood."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good." I turned to Agatha. "Since you are only observing, you are not to get in the way of any of their training, okay? They aren't to be distracted."

Agatha pursed her lips, no doubt at my I'm-not-taking-any-crap tone, but nodded her head. "Yes, ma'am," she said, her voice strong and firm. I offered her a quick smile, before turning to my men.

"We're moving onto firearms today," I informed them. "Head over to the firing range and take a look at the guns. Don't pick out the biggest or the heaviest just to make yourselves feel better. Think about which ones will be best suited to you. My runners and agility guys will generally be best suited for pistols, subs or assault rifles, but if you find something else that you're comfortable with, by all means, pick it up. You can all choose whatever suits you best. I can only advise in this case. And don't worry if you don't find one that suits you just yet - some people (myself included) have a penchant for slightly less... modern weaponry. If that's the case, just come talk to me and we'll sort something out. Now go."

* * *

Later, after training had ended and I'd debriefed with Lieutenant-Colonel Miller, I went in search of Agatha. I _thought_ she'd be with the other nurses, but when I entered the nearly empty mess room I found her laughing along with my two favourites from the group.

The Frye twins. Jack and Edward. Which I found hilarious because in my head they were secretly pirates _and_ assassins.

Apparently my nerd roots could never be eliminated.

They were fraternal twins, both possessing dark brown hair, but while Jack was tall and buff, Edward was quite lithe in comparison, though it couldn't be denied that he knew how to throw a punch. During training, they'd both opted for BAR M1918A1s. A choice I could relate to, because I liked those guns as well.

"Of all the people in my group, the infamous Frye brothers would be the last pair I'd imagine you becoming friends with," I said teasingly as I neared them, all three grinning at me.

"I think perhaps you just know a different side of them, Eve," Agatha stated simply.

I scoffed. "Oh, sweetheart, I know _every_ side of these guys. It's a blessing and a curse, I'll say that much."

"You know, I don't really appreciate the slander, boss," Jack said with an easy grin.

"It was a half-assed compliment; take it or leave it, Frye."

The two exchanged a glance, shrugged, then turned back to me and nodded. "Alright, thanks, boss."

I rolled my eyes. "You guys are ridiculous," I grumbled. I turned back to Agatha. "I'm ready to leave whenever you are, so just say the word and..." I trailed off, my ears picking up a foreign sound.

"Evelyn, are you-"

" _Shh!_ " I hissed, holding up a hand, straining my ears harder.

I listened for several seconds until I heard the noise again. It was a voice. Low in pitch. Speaking German. " _Ja, sie ist hier. Bestätigt._ " _Yes, she is here. Confirmed._ I'd never been more grateful that I'd chosen to learn German after arriving two years ago. There was a brief pause, during which time I started to move closer to the entrance to the mess hall. The voice was distant - probably in the treeline not too far from where I was standing. " _Permission to shoot?_ " As soon as my mind translated those final words, I rushed from the tent, grabbing a pair of pistols from the pockets of the guys closest to me and ignoring their indignant protests. I raced towards the treeline, following the direction of the voice as the guy continued to speak. " _Aim to kill or to injure?_ "

I launched myself into the trees, pistols help firmly in my grasp, and it was less than two seconds before I found the man in question, holding what appeared to be some kind of phone. The man stared up at me in absolute horror as I pointed the barrel of my gun at his forehead, tucking the other pistol into the waistband of my combat trousers. I held out my empty hand for the device, and he slowly placed it into my waiting palm. I placed the machine by my ear. " _Just a warning..._ " I said, the German falling as easily from my tongue as Russian did. " _If you try to attack someone while I am nearby, you will always lose. Keep that in mind, because if you do it again, I might just decide to come after you. And I always find my targets._ " I then dropped the communication device on the floor and crushed it under my boot. I turned back to the man in front of me, whose skin had become incredibly pale and who was sweating buckets. "Do you speak English?" I asked with a pleasant tone.

"Uh... A little," he answered with a heavy accent.

"Good." I pressed the barrel of the gun against his head, and he flinched. "Who were you after?"

"You."

"Why? On whose orders?" He looked blankly at me. I growled and repeated the question in German.

He flinched again. "You are vanted... uh... dead. My leader find out about you. Has people after you."

"Why?" I repeated, pressing my gun more firmly against his skull.

"He vants to... uh... rekrutieren."

I frowned. "He wants to recruit me?"

"You are... dangerous. Powerful. He vants power on his side."

"Who is this man? Your leader, who is he?"

The man's eyes whizzed around, suddenly searching for a way out, even though we both knew there was no way for him to escape. "He is a... wissenschaftler. A man of science. Und... mythen."

My mind connected the dots far too quickly. "Johann Schmidt," I growled, and, somehow, the man paled even more, nodding slowly.

" _Ja._ "

I could feel the fury burning through my blood, but I kept it contained. I grabbed the man by his collar and pulled him to his feet, before pushing him back towards the camp, leaning down to pick up his gun as I did. A significantly sized crowd had gathered in the centre of the base, staring towards the trees as I nudged the German man forward with his own weapon.

Miller stepped to the front of the crowd, wearing a disapproving frown. "What is the meaning of this, Moore?"

"Thought you'd like a chat with him," I said, shoving the man forward with no restraint. He sprawled on the dusty floor, shaking. "He was sent by one Johann Schmidt. Trying to take me into custody."

"What for?"

I rolled my eyes. "I think that's something you should be asking him." I nodded to two of the guys in my group. "Get him a chair and some chains. Keep him away from anything he could use to escape." The two men hurriedly did as ordered. I turned back to Miller. "I need to speak to Colonel Phillips. Urgently."

"The Colonel is busy, as of four days ago," Miller informed me blandly. "I can have a message sent to-"

"No," I said sharply. "It has to be done in person. Where is he? If he can't come here, I'll go wherever the hell he is now."

"You can't go without official orders, First Sergeant."

"The hell I can't!" I snarled. "You may not understand the gravity of what just happened, _sir_ , but I do. He came from a group I know all too intimately. Now tell me where Colonel Phillips is or so help me God I will find out in ways we can both be sure you won't like."

I was standing almost nose to nose with Miller, my eyes narrowed, that scolding anger still fizzing in my blood. Miller's eyes were hard as he returned my gaze, but clearly he saw something that satisfied him, because he stepped back and said simply, "Colonel Phillips has gone to Camp Lehigh, in New Jersey. But I warn you, Moore, if you talk to me like that again, there will be serious consequences."

"With all due respect, what the army considers to be 'serious consequences' are nothing compared to what I've had to face in the past."

Miller sighed, but, apparently giving up, he said, "Well, if you insist on leaving, I want you gone within three days."

I smirked. "Sir, I'll be gone in an hour." I then turned around and walked through the crowd of men, who happily made a pathway for me.

"Evelyn!" I heard Agatha's footsteps long before she drew level with me. "What's going on?" she asked, frowning in concern.

"That man was from Hydra," I said simply, and her face suddenly dropped. Grew ashen.

"And you're going after them?"

I shook my head. "You don't know all the things they did, Ags," I told her softly. "Not even I know that. But I know a damn sight more than you do, and if it's in my power to help prevent some of those things from happening, then I'm going to do exactly that. I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"No," she agreed, "I don't. But I just want you to be careful. You're not going into this with a clear head."

"I'd be making the same decision even if my head _was_ clear, Ags," I admitted, slowing down my fast pace until it was little more than a crawl. Shaking my head again, I placed a hand on Agatha's shoulder and gave her a wan smile. "Look after yourself. Stay out of trouble. And I swear to God, if I hear you've being trying to hook up with Bucky, you and I are going to have more than just a serious talk the next time we meet."

Agatha giggled. "No, that's fine. Barnes is off-limits, I understand that. Besides, while he's sweet, he's a bit too... audacious for my liking."

I snorted. "Yeah, I can understand that." I patted her shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Agatha."

"Yeah, you too."


	8. 8 - Peggy Carter

**A/N: I watched a very upsetting movie before writing much of this. It probably shows. Next chapter should be happier, though, so hopefully you'll forgive me.**

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* * *

 **8 - Peggy Carter**

I was internally screaming the whole time I journeyed to Camp Lehigh. I was trying to stop myself from forcing myself to suffer an encounter with the group that ruined so many lives, including the lives of some of the people I held closest to my heart, but my desire for revenge was too potent. And I knew it was the right thing to do. I was convinced of that.

But the anger was undeniable. As I went the 80 or so mile journey from Fort Hamilton to Camp Lehigh, that fury only grew more and more. Knowing that I was here, alive, around the time of the true birth of Hydra, was slowly driving me insane. Because, as much as I wanted to stop them before they'd really started, I knew I couldn't. Because if Hydra was broken in the 40s, then I'd have never become Silverthorn in the 50s. Which would mean I'd never have the ability to stop Hydra. So they'd never be stopped.

It was a paradox. I used to find them fascinating. But now, suddenly, I hated the damn things.

But I _had_ to help. Even if it killed me. Maybe it would. It would be a good thing to die for, though - the survival of mankind.

When I arrived at Camp Lehigh, wearing my army clothes in place of my old Hydra ones, there was already someone waiting for me. Someone who I didn't even realise was in America at this point. Peggy Carter.

Her brown curls were the same shade as the ones on my wig, and we seemed to have the same colour skin as well. In fact, beside the colour of our eyes and our height (I was the same height as her now, but she was wearing heals, so in reality I was probably two or three inches taller), we were uncannily similar.

"First Sergeant Evelyn Moore," she greeted in a curt but all too _British_ accent that I couldn't help but relish.

"Agent Peggy Carter," I said in return, flashing her a quick smirk. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"I wasn't even aware you knew of me," she countered, though by the twitch of her lips I could tell she wanted to break into a smile.

I chuckled. "There a lot of things I'm aware of, Peggy," I said simply. Then, with a wink in her direction, I added, "And a lot of the time I'm not supposed to be."

Peggy gave me something akin to a half-smile, though I could tell she was still trying to get a judge on me. She seemed to find what she was looking for, because some of her... professionalism faded away, and she suddenly was smiling a little more genuinely at me. "I've heard a lot about you, First Sergeant," she said.

I scoffed. "Okay, drop the formalities," I ordered semi-sternly. "Just Evelyn, or Eve, will do." She nodded, face serious. I couldn't help but internally laugh. Such a light topic, and she was there acting like I was telling her she had to run into a blockade on her own and save a dozen men. "And, yeah, apparently word gets around about me. I haven't quite figured out whether or not that's a good thing yet."

"All the words are complimentary," she assured me. "Well," she said after a moment of thought. "Most of them are, anyway."

"That's not what the issue is," I muttered. "It's why I'm here."

She sent me a look. "Why?"

"Hydra," I answered solemnly, and suddenly her back stiffened and her face hardened, her hatred of the group in her brown eyes.

"They found you," she said, and her confidence in her conclusion meant it was a statement, rather than a question. Then her brows furrowed. "How? Why?"

"I don't know how," I admitted grudgingly, clenching and unclenching my fists by my sides. "As for why... They want to recruit me. But they've got another thing coming if they think I'm going in any way willingly."

Peggy shot me an odd expression. "You might not have a choice."

I stopped in my step, turning to face her with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean?"

She hesitated, before admitting, "If Hydra want you so badly, it's likely Colonel Phillips will want to send you to them, to act as our man inside, as it were."

I shook my head. "Forget it," I said gruffly. "I'm not going back there."

"Back?"

I sighed, wincing internally at my slip. "Hydra and I have... history," I admitted. "Nothing good, either."

"Does that mean they'd know you if you went there?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Because when I was there before, I looked different, I had a different name, and I had a different skillset." Not to mention it was fourteen years in the future. That bit went unspoken, of course.

"So you've rewritten yourself completely," she deduced.

I scoffed. "You kind of have to when a Nazi organisation turns you into a master assassin," I said bitterly. "Where's the Colonel?"

Peggy pointed towards the open tent in the centre of the camp. "He's in there. But, just be warned, he's not exactly happy with you right now."

"He doesn't have to be," I muttered under my breath. I moved towards the command tent, drawing the eyes of many along the way. Some even stopped what they were doing just to watch the strange girl armed to the teeth storm through the middle of the camp like she was a volcano. An active volcano merely waiting for the opportunity to explode. What they didn't know was that I was _very_ close to exploding. Peggy had been nice enough, but as soon as she'd mentioned the possibility of my going back to Hydra... that rage that I'd momentarily forgotten about had flared to life again.

Colonel Phillips was talking to two other men when I entered the tent. The Colonel didn't even look at me when he said, "Now isn't the time, Moore."

"You will make now the time," I retorted sharply, standing in front of him with my feet slightly apart, my back straight, arms folded over my chest, and nine visible weapons on my back, at my waist, or strapped to my legs. The others... well, they were hidden. But that didn't mean they weren't there.

Phillips sighed. "Gentlemen," he said tiredly, "meet Evelyn Moore. She's a damn good fighter, but a God-awful soldier."

"When you come from a background like mine, you tend to find following orders loses its charm," I hissed.

Phillips stared at me, before blandly stating, "Since you're so tight-lipped about your past, I don't really know anything about you."

"Take a wild guess," I muttered, shaking my head. "I assume you know why I'm here."

"I know that you apprehended a German spy two days ago," he said, with a subtle glance at the two men beside him. They didn't know about Hydra. It was still secret at this point.

I sighed internally, reigning in my inner storm. "They know about me," I said simply. "And from what I can tell, they want me on their side."

"So you came here."

"I trust you more than Miller." That much wasn't a lie, at least.

Phillips looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. "Moore, do us all a favour and go calm down. Fire a gun or two if you have to. Report back to me when your mental stability is a little stronger."

I didn't bother holding back when it came to the eye roll. I gave a mock solute. "Yes, sir." Before spinning on my heel and walking away.

I made my way towards the firing range, ignoring the conspicuous glances I was getting from so many people.

"Boss!"

I paused, my head clearing slightly at the sound of the familiar voice. I turned my head and saw a man I didn't think I'd see again jogging towards me, wearing an easy grin. "Bloody hell," I murmured, eyes widening in surprise. Then, I called out, "I thought you were supposed to be on the front line, soldier."

Tanner came to a stop beside me, wearing a lazy grin. "Got pulled out. Turns out they're short a few guys here. Thanks to you, I've become a trainer myself."

I chuckled. "I can still put you on your ass," I teased.

He grinned. "Oh, I've no doubt. But, I've kept up practices since we last saw each other. I'm better than I used to be."

I nodded, smiling approvingly. "Good. No amount of training will do you any good if you don't keep yourself in shape."

"So, what are you doing here?"

Shaking my head, I muttered, "I'd rather not discuss it, Tanner. Suffice to say it's for no happy reason."

He held his hand up in surrender. "Just say the word, boss, and I'll shut up." He gave me a contemplative look. "You busy right now?"

"Well, I have a fair amount of steam to let off, but other than that, not really."

His grin suddenly became a little bit more wicked. "There are a few guys under my command who are absolute pains in the backside. Care to give them a bit of a lashing?"

I chuckled, that dark part of me squirming excitedly in the pit of my stomach. "Trust me, Tanner, it would be my genuine pleasure."

* * *

After the eighth guy landed on the floor, winded and clutching at his stomach (which I'd just kicked), no one else bothered to challenge me. Tanner's group weren't bad, and I had to commend the guy for his ability to demand respect from his men, but there were a select few who I was surprised even managed to get into the army at all. Not because they couldn't fight, but because they didn't exact fill the shoes of 'soldier' very well. Not that I could say much - hadn't Phillips said just an hour ago that I was terrible at taking orders? The difference between me and these guys was that I would follow the orders that would help. So, if I was still being trained, I'd follow my instructions to the letter.

I turned to Tanner. "Mind if I take over control for a while?"

He smirked. "By all means, boss, go ahead."

I nodded, moving to stand in front of the rag-tag team in front of me. "Okay," I said, drawing their attention. "I want Mathias, Johansson, Gallagher, Matthews, Harrier and Floyd to move into the sparring field." They didn't move, simply exchanged glances and eyed me suspiciously. I sent them a raised eyebrow. "Am I going to have to repeat myself, gentlemen? Because I'm more than happy to kick your asses into place if I have to." Having seen my fighting abilities, they knew I was being completely serious. So they slowly moved into position, three on my left and three on my right. "Good," I said lowly, so they could only hear me. "Now I want the six of you to listen to me very closely. You signed up for this. You joined the army because you decided that's what you wanted to do. As a result, nothing, and I repeat, _nothing_ , should stop you from working your hardest in every training session. So, now I will ask you why you are standing around doing absolutely fuck all." Their lips pursed at my language, but I didn't care. This was the army, after all. Even so, the guys said nothing to me, and in a way I was kind of glad of it. I nodded. "Fair enough. Well then, I am going to make you fight each other. The only way to lose is if you physically can no longer stand."

"That's a bit harsh," Gallagher protested, frowning.

"That's what you get for not following orders," I mumbled. "You're lucky this is not the real world. This is just training. But nonetheless you are preparing yourself for the world of war. Standing around and being idle is going to get you killed. So, by all means, continue as you are. But if you want to stand a chance of surviving, I suggest you do as instructed. Now get your asses in gear and fight." I stepped back to give the guys some space.

The fight was slow at first, the guys clearly hesitant about hurting each other, but a loud clearing of my throat caused it to kick up a notch. It wasn't long before the guys were fighting full-on, laying their fists into each other with no reserve. As expected, they had none of the same sharpness as the rest of the group, but they weren't terrible.

I turned to Tanner, who raised an eyebrow at me. "Where exactly are you going with this?"

"I'm getting a feel for their abilities," I answered honestly.

He looked a bit stunned. "And how's that going?"

I turned back to the fight, my eyes darting from man to man. "Harrier and Mathias will be excellent snipers," I said. "See how they're mostly keeping out of the action? They're watching their opponents, looking for weak spots."

Tanner nodded. "Okay, yeah, I see what you mean. What about the others?"

"Johansson, Gallagher and Floyd would be good with assault rifles," I said after a moment more. "They seem pretty comfortable all-round. Matthews... needs something a little bit more... imaginative."

"Like what?"

"I'm not sure yet," I admitted. "But he has a fighting style not unlike my own."

"And what's your best weapon?"

"Swords," I stated honestly. Then, more slowly, I added, "Though I haven't touched a blade in over two years."

Tanner stared at me. "Swords?" he asked, and I nodded, watching as Gallagher lashed out at Johansson and knocked the man onto the ground, nose spewing blood. Johansson audibly growled, before picking himself up and retaliating by kicking Gallagher in the thigh. I could tell this was quickly going to turn ugly. I sighed dramatically. "Time for part two of the plan," I said, drawing a pistol and a checking it was fully loaded, before aiming it towards the guys.

Tanner's eyes widened. "Boss, what are you-?"

"Relax, Tanner," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'm a good shot. I won't hit any of them." I waited for several seconds before I fired my gun, the bullet creating a small cloud of dust as it hit the dirt ground in the middle of the guys. They all stopped, staring at me with wide eyes. I put my gun back in its place on my belt. "I had that gun out and pointing at you for almost twenty seconds," I informed them. "One of the first things you would have learned, had you bothered to listen, was to always be aware of your surroundings. Use every one of your senses in a fight, as it will surely save your life. Not a single one of you noticed me. If I had been your enemy, you'd be dead right now." Their faces were understandably solemn. "There is a war going on in Europe," I said, raising my voice to address everyone. "The chances of it staying confined to Europe are slim to none. One day, you _are_ going to be fighting for your life. Maybe you'd like to think about that the next time you figure you don't want to put your all into something."

When I left Tanner to continue to train his men, there was a distinctly heavy atmosphere over the entire group.


	9. 9 - In A Graveyard

**A/N: James in this chapter! I did promise you, and I keep my promises. Usually. But in this case I did, so enjoy! :)**

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 **TMNTGirl: Wow, that definitely put a smile on my face. Thank you SO much, and I'm happy to hear you're enjoying it so much :)**

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 **angelAnabiel: Yeah, Daphne definitely has her moments ;)**

* * *

 **9 - In A Graveyard**

 **~ 2014 ~**

That file was still sat on his desk, unopened. James was trying to convince himself to open it up, to read about the life of the woman he loved, but at the same time... he felt like that would make it final. Like opening up that file would mean admitting to himself that she really was gone. That he couldn't just ask her about herself. And, honestly, he didn't think he was ready for that yet. A small, naïve part of him still held hope that Daphne may have somehow escaped her death. But that part was shrinking. He was losing that hope. He didn't want to throw it away by opening that file. He wanted to hold onto it for as long as he could.

The entire room was still clinging to what was left of her scent, and it gently caressed his senses whenever he walked into the room. It was agonising and calming all at once. He couldn't decide whether that made it better or worse.

James was sat on the bed, idly fingering the silver blades that had been left there. Stark had secretly been in the middle of making them both weapons when _that_ happened. James had walked into their bedroom the day after she left him and there they were, sat on the bed. He'd broken down at that point, because they were stunning, and she would have absolutely adored them. But she would never see them. And that _hurt._

 _Everything_ hurt. It hurt to fight without her by his side. It hurt to eat without her. It hurt to not see her. It hurt to not talk to her. It hurt to sleep. Think. _Breathe._

James knew he was falling apart, thread by thread, just like he'd done once before. But this time, he had no will to fight. He had so little left to live for. Who would care if he just wasted away?

Steve? Definitely.

But no one else really knew him; this version of him or the old one.

The old one who would surely have yelled at him get off his ass and do something useful. The old one who would have leapt back onto his feet almost immediately in the same situation.

But James was not Bucky. And he wasn't that strong anymore. Physically, there was little he couldn't do. Mentally... there was little he _could_ do.

He needed help. Steve would help him. Steve - brilliant, selfless Steve - would always be there for him. James still didn't think he deserved such a good guy for a best friend. But that didn't mean he was willing to give him up. Steve wasn't giving up on him. He couldn't give up on himself. But he still needed help. Maybe he could still get it from the most unlikely of sources. From someone who always had a knack for making things better for him.

Getting up off the bed, James carefully laid down the swords and then left the room, his determination increasing his pace. But only by a little. His feet still felt heavy, dragging along the floor.

Steve noticed him immediately. So did Natasha.

"I want to go see Evie," James said quietly. Natasha looked confused. Steve looked stunned.

"Why?" the Captain asked, utterly baffled.

James sighed, staring forlornly out the window. "She always had a way of making any situation easier," he murmured absently. "I think even seeing a memory of her would give me some more strength."

Steve stared at him for a while, then smiled sadly and nodded. "Sure, Buck. It's not far from here."

* * *

Steve wasn't lying when he said it wasn't far. One fourteen minute walk later they were standing outside a modest church with a large graveyard.

"I should warn you," Steve said lowly, "Eve's not the only one here who we knew back then. It's not easy going in there."

James sighed. "I have to do this," he muttered. He wasn't quite sure who it was he was trying to convince, but he entered the graveyard anyway.

He did indeed recognise a few names as he looked for Evelyn's tombstone. Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader Dugan. George Frederick Tanner. Robert Walter Miller. Edward Victor Julian Frye.

"Bucky!"

He looked up and saw Steve gesturing to him from across the graveyard, standing in front of a modest, grey stone. James moved over to his friend and came to an easy stop, staring down at the stone.

 _'In loving memory of  
_ _Evelyn Imogen Moore_

 _A hero to many, and the saviour of dozens of brave men and women on the fields of battle._

 _"No single man can win a war on his own. But, with enough dedication and determination, a single man can turn the tides of a war in his favour. We all have the power to become the heroes this country needs. All anyone needs is a little guidance to start them on the right path."_

 _~ Evelyn Moore (1942)_

 _September 11th 1913 - March 10th 1949'_

James couldn't help but muse aloud, "I didn't know her middle name was Imogen."

Steve chuckled. "She wasn't exactly the sort of woman to freely give out all her personal information, was she?"

"True," James said with a half-hearted smirk. He shook his head. "She was 35 years old," he said despairingly. "I thought nothing could kill her."

"Eve's death is a little... sketchy."

"What do you mean?"

Steve frowned. "There was evidence of her death, and supposedly many witnesses, but her body was never found. This is just a memorial. She's not buried here."

James eyed his friend closely. Picking up on small details that most people would overlook. "You don't seem convinced."

"Evelyn could get shot without batting an eyelid," Steve started slowly. "She could survive injuries that should have been fatal. And look at the date of her death, Buck. March 10th."

"My birthday," James realised. "Coincidence?"

Steve shook his head. "I don't think so. Eve knew your birthday, and you always were her favourite."

James sighed. "Yeah, I remember. Although, she sometimes had a funny way of showing it."

"I don't think she was good with emotions."

James shook his head. "She told me once that I reminded her of the man she loved. That it sometimes hurt to be near me, because that man and I were very alike. She knew all about emotions, Steve."

Steve was quiet for a moment, before saying, with a tone of realisation in his voice, "So _that's_ why she sometimes looked at you like you were the last person in the world she wanted to see."

James huffed. "Thanks, punk." He frowned at the stone, rereading the words. "Oh my God," he breathed, eyes widening.

"What?"

"Look at her date of birth, Steve. September 11th. The same date as Daphne's."

"Many people have that birthday, Bucky," Steve reminded him dryly.

James shook his head. "No, but don't you think it's a bit strange? Same birthday. Was with someone who was very similar to the me from back then. And she was too good a fighter."

"You're clutching at straws here," Steve said, shaking his head.

But James had found the link, and he'd be damned if he let go of it now. He thought back through foggy memories of his war days, filtering through the ones where Evelyn was present. There were many. His eyes widened further, if it were possible. Present in many memories was a necklace. A necklace he'd seen around Agent Silva's neck before Daphne was shot. A necklace which hadn't been seen since. Agent Silva... could she be connected somehow?

Then James remembered the file. The one with Daphne's whole history. The one given to him by _Silva_. The one which was too thick. Could it be...? Could she have somehow survived?

James' feet had him sprinting back towards the Avengers Tower before his mind could truly register making the decision to move. His heart pounded in his chest, the hope and anticipation curling in his gut.

He prayed with all his being that he wasn't blundering down a blind trail. Because for the first time in what seemed like forever... he had something to hold on to.

* * *

 **~ 1939 ~**

By the time I was finally invited (ordered) to report back to Colonel Phillips, it was nearly nightfall. The sun was a vibrant orange, lighting up the sky in a myriad of warming colours.

After leaving Tanner's group, I found Peggy again and had spent the rest of the afternoon with her. We didn't do anything particularly exciting, but it was nice to have another female presence nearby, and I think the feeling was mutual. Certainly, the Peggy Carter I spent time with today was very different to the one I recalled from my first world.

When I entered the command tent, my rage had settled into embers. It was no longer unmanageable, but it was still there in the pit of my stomach, anticipating being fed more fuel.

Phillips looked up and sent me a dark look. "Your interruption earlier was not a timely one," he said gruffly.

I shrugged. "Not much I can do about it now, is there?"

Phillips sighed, moving behind his desk. He paused just before sitting down, looking up at me with suddenly age-old eyes. "Tell me what you must," he instructed, before dropping into his seat and watching me with an expectant expression on his face.

"The man I 'apprehended', to use your word, was from Hydra. He had a communications device of some kind that allowed him to report to someone further away. He told me that his instructions were to try to recruit me for their cause."

"And this is bad...?"

I nodded solemnly. "You may not know the extent of what Hydra is capable of yet, but you will do soon. The leader is a man called Johann Schmidt. He's supposed to be under the command of Adolf Hitler himself, however Schmidt is... ambitious. It won't be long before he unties himself from the Nazis and sets his eyes on a prize far larger than just the domination of Europe."

"America?"

"If only." I shook my head. "No, he'll go after the world." I sighed, running a hand through my hair and wincing when the pins holding it all together tugged at my skin.

"Tell me more about this supposed opportunist."

I snorted. "Oh, I have a lot of dirt on that man." I sighed, listing through the information I'd gathered from Steve, James, and working for Hydra. Small things that, over time, created a relatively detailed account of Johann Schmidt's life up to this point. "Schmidt's a physicist, and he's always been a very intelligent man. But, he's also always been fascinated by Norse mythology. Schmidt has a theory that the magic that so commonly appears in Teutonic myth could be the oldest type of science ever known, one which we are no longer in touch with. Hitler was intrigued by Schmidt's ideas, as he and Schmidt share the same interests. Heinrich Himmler, the leader of Hitler's SS, was also interested, and recruited Schmidt into the SS back in '34. He quickly rose to the rank of Lieutenant General, and, after recruiting a Swiss scientist by the name of Arnim Zola, created a sub-branch of the SS called, funnily enough, Hydra. Almost four years ago to the day, Schmidt came across a German biochemist by the name of Abraham Erskine. His family were Jews, and Erskine agreed to work with Schmidt in return for his family's safety."

"And what is this scientist's job?"

"Right now? I'm not sure," I lied. "I've been a little too busy to keep an eye on rogue Nazi operations."

Phillips leaned back in his chair. "So tell me," he said at length. "How is it you've come to know all this?"

" _I know many things, Colonel,_ " I said, and I could tell by the way the Colonel's eyes narrowed that he wasn't happy I'd suddenly switched languages. "I was trained by Hydra," I told him. "Both Americans and Russians had a hand in my... upbringing, I suppose you could call it. Hydra is a very secretive operation, even when you're under their leadership, but every now and then small bits of information get dropped. Give it enough time, and suddenly you find yourself with a small arsenal."

Phillips stared at me for a long time, before inquiring slowly, "What did you do, when you were a part of Hydra?"

I smiled humourlessly. "I was an assassin." It was stated bluntly, with no hint of emotion. "I killed people who were a threat to the rise of Hydra."

"How did you escape?"

"I finally put my skills to practical use," I said simply, and it wasn't exactly untrue. "I got out. I changed my name. Changed my appearance. Changed which weapons I used most commonly. Anything to throw them off my scent."

"I guess it didn't work."

"They might not know that Evelyn Moore is the same person as the woman I used to be," I pointed out. "It's like you said - Johann Schmidt is an opportunist. As soon as he sees something he wants, he tries to take it. And, usually, he succeeds."

"But not this time."

"No," I said, my voice firm, brokering no arguments. "I am _not_ going back to them. Not unless it's the last choice on Earth. Hydra have no limits. No moral code to stop them from going too far. I know that more than most."

Phillips leaned back in his chair. "So, what do you propose? Because, as you keep saying, you know more about this group than I do."

I paused, pretending to think to over for a moment. "We need to get Erskine out of there," I said determinedly. "If he's caught Schmidt's attention, he must have something desirable. It might be an object or maybe it's just intelligence. Knowledge. Either way, a man like that is probably better off _out_ of Schmidt's hands."

"And who do you recommend I send over? Because you refuse to go anywhere near that group, and you're my best fighter."

I couldn't help but smile. "I think you should send over Agent Carter."


	10. 10 - The Anamaria

**A/N: Hello, my pretties. I'd just like to mention this chapter skips over a lot of time quite quickly. I think I've managed to make it clear, but if not, please let me know and I'll try to explain it in a different way :)**

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 **angelAnabiel: Yeah, Bucky's gonna come into the story in about two chapters, and the next chapter has a 2014 scene as well. Glad to hear you're enjoying it :)**

* * *

 **10 - The Anamaria**

Peggy got sent to rescue Erskine a week after that day, while Phillips told me to stay at Camp Lehigh and help train the newest recruits. Since the announcement of the war in Europe, more and more men were signing up, no doubt anticipating being sent overseas to fight.

Eight months later and Peggy still hadn't returned. That was June of 1940. News of Germany's Blitzkrieg was making everyone a little bit more antsy. More and more men from all over the country were being sent to Camp Lehigh. My first group had contained forty men, split easily into two groups of twenty. By that summer, I had 77 men under my command, which was... well, not exactly helpful. I'd split that lot into two groups of 26, and one group of 25. They learned well, but it wasn't easy teaching so many.

Hydra had also become an increasingly prominent name in military news. Schmidt was growing more aggressive, using highly advanced technologies to wipe out whole regiments in mere hours. Phillips approached Howard Stark after Hydra made an attempt on his life, and from there, the Strategic Scientific Reserve was founded, with Howard, Phillips and I as its leaders. Peggy would, of course, become a member. And, with time (and a little effort on my part), so would Doctor Erskine.

It was June 24th when Peggy and Erskine finally returned to Camp Lehigh. It took two days for them both to sign up to join the SSR. Peggy signed immediately. Erskine required a little persuasion, but not much.

That was almost a year and a half ago.

Now, I was with my twelfth group of training, my last one having been sent to the front lines not three days ago. But today, I was distracted. Everyone could see it. But I couldn't help it.

Because today was December 7th 1941.

"Moore!" Phillips barked, drawing me from a daze (for the fifth time that morning).

I looked at him, feeling completely drained. "Sir?"

The man eyed me for a second, but then suddenly his whole stance shifted, and it looked like the world had come crashing down onto his shoulders. I knew what he was going to say before the words left his mouth. "I've just had word. Pearl Harbour was attacked by the Japanese. Roosevelt's going to formally declare war tomorrow. We've already got recruitment stations being erected all over the country."

"How bad is the damage?" I asked.

Phillips shook his head. "At this point, it's difficult to tell - the attack only ended around two hours ago. Most of the fleet is gone though. Along with many men."

I nodded slowly, that heaviness forming in the pit of my stomach. "What do you want me to do? I assume you didn't simply tell me for the sake of it."

Slowly, the Colonel nodded. "You're right. I need to ask you for a very big favour, Moore. One you have every right to decline."

"That doesn't sound good," I mumbled. "Well, what is it?"

"The guys on the front need help. I've recommended you. We've got men from over a dozen different locations who have requested you come. By name. You're very well known out on the field, Moore. Your men remember you, and so the commanders out there have come to know of you."

"You want me to go to the front?" I questioned, confused. "Why?"

"Because you're capable," he said simply. "You're more than capable. And most of those men need a familiar face they know they can trust."

"How long?"

He sighed. "A year. Maybe half a year if you're as efficient as I expect you'll be. It all depends on how bad the fighting is when you get there. We've already got troops being moved to Europe. You're going to be joining them, if you accept. You'll have to move between 18 divisions."

I pondered for a second, then said slowly, "Fine. But only if you tell me when you're in the final stages of Project Rebirth. I want to be back here when that happens."

"Of course."

"I want your word, Colonel."

Phillips' lips tightened, but he let out a long breath through his nose and nodded. "You have my word. As soon as Erskine thinks the serum is nearing completion, I'll send the order to have you brought back."

I nodded, clapping him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Phillips. When do I leave?"

"As soon as you're ready. There's a ship heading for Britain in three days. It's a two day trip from here to the boat."

I nodded, feeling a slight thrill of nerves in the pit of my stomach. Combat was a familiar thing for me. War was not. It would be a change of pace, that was for certain. "I'll go get ready," I told him, and he nodded approvingly before I spun on my heel and marched away, trying to determine whether the churning sensation in my stomach was from fear, nerves, or excitement. I figured it was probably a mix of the three.

* * *

I could take down a dozen men without batting an eyelid. I could get shot several times and barely make a sound. I'd faced many dangers and experienced the worst things and come out the other side (mostly) whole.

But stick me on a boat, and I might as well be a sack of potatoes.

It had been decades since I last went on a boat - while with Hydra, James and I always used planes, or went by foot, or by car. Never by boat. So the last time I was on a ship like this was while I was still in my early teens. As it turned out, I got badly seasick. I wasn't the only one. I didn't feel the nausea so much when I was on the deck, so I stayed in the open as much as possible.

The ship - the 'Anamaria' - could cruise at a fairly reasonable 13mph on a good day. At a constant speed, it would take ten or eleven days to reach Plymouth port (which was our destination). But we were heading for a storm. So we were likely to be blown off course, and that would increase our travel time. Something which I was _not_ looking forward to, because while we were going through the storm, I'd have no choice but to stay inside. Which meant I'd be facing my seasickness again.

For now though, I made the most of my time on the deck. I sat on the ground, my back against the bars of the ship, feeling the sea spray on my skin. I didn't have any of my usual ways to keep myself occupied, so instead I settled for singing the few songs I knew from start to finish over and over again.

I was going through 'Seven Nation Army' by The White Stripes for the fourth time when someone stopped me mid-sentence.

" _I'm gonna fight 'em off  
_ _A seven nation army couldn't hold me back_  
 _They're gonna rip it off_  
 _Taking their time right_ _-_ "

"Are you just gonna spend the whole trip doing that?"

I raised my eyes from the patterns on the floor and saw a man sat on the railing just a few feet away. That he managed to place himself there meant he was either extraordinarily quiet on his feet, or I was so far into my own head that my senses suffered as a result. I really hoped it was the former. Being distracted was not safe on a battlefield. The guy in front of me was only wearing half his uniform (he was lacking his hat and his jacket), his black hair neatly slicked back. He had a handsome face and was clearly a strong man. His expression was friendly, and the tone of voice he'd used when asking that question was curious, rather than annoyed.

I couldn't help but shrug. "A boat isn't exactly the best location for the things I'd normally do to pass the time," I said simply.

He smiled slightly. "And what would they be?"

"Fighting. Shooting. Yelling at the guys I train." I shrugged. "I work for the army," I said by way of an explanation. "I don't get much free time."

"Sounds like you don't really know what you enjoy doing," he said seriously, brows furrowing slightly. "All those things - they're work. They're not hobbies. What are your hobbies?"

"Reading. Playing the guitar (though it's been a while since I did that). I used to draw."

He shook his head. "You don't sound very certain," he noted. He dropped off of the railing and sat himself on the floor, keeping a respectable two feet between us. "When was the last time you went out and did something fun?"

I suddenly found myself feeling somewhat sheepish. "About four years ago."

His eyes widened to the size of golf balls. " _Four years?!_ " he echoed, completely gobsmacked. "What did you do?"

"I went out dancing with my friends. It... didn't really end well."

"In what way?"

I hesitated, before answering with a half-truth, "The club was attacked while we were in there."

"Oh." He pursed his lips. He then held out a hand. "I'm Jared Wiley."

I took his hand and shook it. "Evelyn Moore."

Jared froze. " _You're_ Evelyn Moore?" he asked in shock.

I blinked. "Um... Yes? Why?"

He chuckled. "I've heard a lot about you. There are some fellas on this ship who were apparently trained by you, and they've said a _lot._ "

"Good things I hope," I responded teasingly.

He nodded. "Not a bad word, really. Only that you exhausted the hell out of them during training."

"They'd never improve if they didn't stretch themselves to their limits."

"Yeah, that's what they said you always told them." Jared chuckled. "They'll be glad to see you, I'm sure. A couple are sharing a room with me. Wanna come and see them?"

It didn't really take much consideration before I agreed, pushing myself to my feet. "I suppose that wouldn't be a bad idea," I commented idly. "Who's down there?"

"Francis Gooding. Linus Alsworth. Joel Benton. Um... Oh, and Charles Walsh."

I groaned. "Why did it have to be _Walsh,_ of all people?"

Jared seemed surprised. "Why is that a problem?"

"He's made it his personal goal to flirt with me at just about every passing opportunity. It's... irritating, to say the least."

"Thought you were rationed," he said, only to suck in a sharp breath and look like he was mentally beating himself up for saying that.

I decided to let him go about the slip, and slapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, I am. Unfortunately, that knowledge does absolutely nothing to dissuade him."

"Well, from what I've heard, you can beat them all in a fight pretty quickly, so you could always throw him a quick right-hook to remind him of his place."

I laughed. "You know what, Jared? I like you already."

"Glad to hear it. Honestly, you're not the sort of person I'd want to be enemies with. There are some fairly... radical stories about how you came to possess the skills you do."

"Oh? And what, pray tell, do _they_ entail?"

He shrugged. "They range from being raised by a family of war veterans, to being trained by assassins, to being centuries old and having many more years of practice than your physical body would suggest." I tried to keep a straight face at that. Those last two were worryingly close to home. "Whatever you do, don't tell them the real truth. It's quite amusing to hear the crazy theories they come up with."

I gave him a sad smile. "The truth isn't a nice one," I admitted. "It's not something I'd ever want any of you guys to hear. I've only ever told one person."

Jared nodded in understanding. "Everyone's allowed their secrets," he stated simply, and then the conversation died down as we started to meander our way through the narrow corridors of the soldiers' floor. A couple doors were open, and a few of the men were milling about, but most were closed. Muffled voices could be heard on the other side of the doors. I also heard a few people throwing up. Which was nice.

Jared led me to the very last door on the corridor and threw it open without knocking.

"Oi, shut the bloody door!"

I grinned as I leaned against the doorframe. I'd know that voice anywhere. "Did your mother never teach you about manners, Gooding?"

Francis Gooding, who was sat with another man I didn't know on a bunk playing cards, froze at the sight of me. "This is a dream, right?" he queried slowly.

I chuckled. "I do hope I don't appear in your dreams often, Gooding. Because if I do... Well, that's a bit disturbing."

Gooding shook his head. "What're you doing here, boss?"

I sighed, moving to sit on the opposite bunk. "Same as you. I'm being sent to the front. The situation doesn't sound great."

"What about your work training new recruits?"

I shrugged. "I'll go back to that. Phillips thinks I'll only be out here for a year at most. I've got many different regiments to visit in that time, so at least I'll be kept busy."

Gooding stared at me, then cracked a crooked grin. "Walsh is asleep on the bunk above you," he told me in a conspiratorial tone.

I smirked to myself. "I don't suppose you have a bucket of water on hand...?"

Gooding returned the grin. "Unfortunately not. Pulling him off the bed works pretty well, though."

"If you dare, I will skewer you on your own spine," came a sleepy voice from above me.

I chuckled. "Nice of you to join us, Walsh."

"Always a pleasure, boss," he murmured in return, voice no doubt being muffled by his pillow. There was a beat of silence, then, "Holy crap, you're really here." I looked up and saw Walsh's head poking down from above. His face was still pale from sleep.

I raised my eyebrows. "Is that so unbelievable?"

"I'm surprised the army let you go. They love you too much."

"Something I hear is a common opinion," Jared piped up.

I shook my head. "They like me because I can fight," I corrected. "I still don't follow half the orders given to me."

"You followed this one," Gooding pointed out.

"This wasn't an order," I informed him, leaning back against the wall and trying to ignore how my stomach rolled when the ship hit a particularly large wave. "Colonel Phillips gave me the option of not coming."

"So why did you?"

"Because I'm needed," I said simply. "I wasn't trained to fight in a war. The Colonel knows that as much as I do. So the fact that he asked me to come and help out means it must be serious. I figured I'd probably be more useful getting in on the action, rather than just staying in America."

"You train sixty men each time," Walsh pointed out, sounding a little more awake now. "Sixty men are likely to be more use than one woman. No offence."

"I've had many more years of experience," I countered. "Besides, who are the Germans more likely to see coming? A platoon of soldiers, or a single woman? I'd have the advantage of surprise." With no more arguments, the group settled into a brief quiet. "So who's the stranger of this group?" I asked, nodding at the guy sitting opposite Gooding, who now had a cigarette in between his lips.

He took said cigarette from his mouth and turned to me with a straight face. He seemed like the kind of guy who'd cause trouble. One of those ones who were too firm on their belief that women were possessions to be kept safe at home. I knew in a single glance that he and I would _not_ get on. "Stan Davis." His voice was about as curt as expected, and then he turned back to the cards in front of him, ignoring me completely.

I smiled wanly. "A pleasure." I stood up. "Well, I'll leave you gentlemen to it. Gooding, Walsh, it was good seeing you again."

"Same here, boss," Gooding said, with Walsh nodding along.

I clapped Jared on the shoulder. "See you 'round, Jared. Keep these guys out of trouble for me, would you?"

He chuckled and gave me a mock-solute. "Yes, ma'am."


	11. 11 - Letters

**A/N: I'm early! Oh, and, by the way, the layout of this chapter is quite different to what you're used to, but I wanted to find a way that jumped over a large period of time without omitting too many details. This was what I came up with.**

 **Big thanks to: Jacksmum23 and AMV1999 for favouriting/following.**

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* * *

 **11 - Letters**

 **~ 2014 ~**

James opened the glass door, and the ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent lifted his head. His eyes widened in surprise, but he managed to cover it up admirably quickly.

"What can I do for you, Sergeant Barnes?"

"I want to see your supply of items owned by Evelyn Imogen Moore," James said simply.

The man nodded, getting to his feet. "Sure thing, but I'm afraid it might take a while. They're very old, and orders were given to keep any files only on paper. Based on their age, they might be buried beneath some other boxes." He then disappeared into the next room.

James tried to ignore the pang of irritation that flared up when he heard that. He didn't have time to spare, in his opinion. Every second wasted meant a second longer in the dark.

After going back to the Avengers Tower, he'd headed straight for his room and picked up the file that suddenly seemed considerably less daunting. It didn't stop him from hesitating before opening it, though. He'd read all through the night, until he reached the part that detailed Daphne's captured by Beritt and her supposed death. By this point, he was barely more than halfway through the file.

The next page confirmed his suspicions - it detailed her arrival in 1937 (the thought that she'd gone so far out of reach made him internally wince) and her change of name from Daphne Sparrow to Evelyn Moore. Several pages beyond that, and suddenly he was leaping off the bed and heading for the room in the Tower where most of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s older files were kept.

The last sentence he read gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, Daphne was talking to him from back in time.

The man reappeared, pulling James from his thoughts. He was carrying a cardboard box.

"Here you are, sir."

James took the box immediately. "Thank you."

And then he was gone, hurrying back towards his room. Once there, he slammed the door shut behind him (a little more forcefully than intended, but he didn't dwell on it long), placed the box on the bed, and then pulled off the lid. A few things caught his eyes, but not many. Her old uniform. A patch that showed she reached the rank of Command Sergeant Major. An old photo of her with a group of people he didn't know, dated 1947. Her bracelet from the 26th Infantry. And then, right at the bottom, wrapped carefully in blue silk, was a pile of letters. All written in Russian. All addressed with the word 'Тень' written on the front. _Shadow_.

James slowly untied the piece of string holding the letters together, carefully picked up the first one, and began to read.

* * *

 _December 12th, 1941._

 _I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but I figured it would be a good idea to write to you. So you know I'm okay. I'm just sorry you had to see what you saw._

 _Let's start from the beginning._

 _That man didn't kill me. Agent Silva gave me her necklace, which is actually a vessel of sorts for the Time Stone, one of the six Infinity Stones of Norse legend. When I was shot by that beam, the Time Stone sent me back to 1937 to keep me alive. It's been over four years since then. In that time, as I'm sure you know by now, I joined the army. Started training the men there._

 _Five days ago, Pearl Harbour was attacked. Colonel Phillips asked me to go over to Europe, because the men posted there are struggling. So that's where I am now - on a ship, heading for England. After that, I'm not really sure what the plan is. I guess I'll just get told when I arrive._

 _I miss you, Shadow. Every day. I keep trying to remind myself that, with the Time Stone around my neck, I'll survive long enough to see you again. But, from here, I have to wait 73 years. By the time I'm back in 2014, I'll be twice the age I was the last time I saw you. And that is not a nice thought. It's hard to find the strength to get up in morning, sometimes. But I do it anyway, because time waits for no one._

 _The dinner alarm was just called. Have to go now. I'll write another one of these when I have the chance. Keep you updated on my progress. I don't know why. Maybe writing this in words, knowing who this letter is for, makes me feel closer to you. Either way, I'm going to keep doing it. Hope you don't mind._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _December 25th, 1941._

 _Merry Christmas, Shadow! I know it's been a little while, but it's hell out here. Our men are really suffering. Just the day before my group and I arrived, the men we were being sent to help were pushed back another three miles. I've been to two regiments since then. The first one, we managed to gain back over forty miles of territory in just over a week. I put my stealth skills to use and managed to sneak behind the enemy lines. Took out almost fifty men single-handedly. After that, the rest of the guys came in and secured the area. The second regiment was less simple, but we still made eight miles of progress. One of my men, Anthony Young, got caught in a grenade blast. I may have overreacted a little; got myself a little cut up. Don't worry, I'm fine now._

 _But yeah, this is the first day of ceasefire in over two weeks, so I thought I'd sit down and write to you. It's Christmas Day, as you've probably worked out by now. The guys are playing football (they call it soccer) in the forest not far from here. I think the Germans are doing the same thing. I'm glad we could have a break, though. Everyone needs it._

 _War isn't the glorious thing everyone back in America seems to think it is. I know that now, more than ever. This regiment had 84 men when I joined. 59 are left. That's not easy to stomach, even for me._

 _I wish you were here, even though I know you hated being at war. Still, the reminder that you did this even before you became a supersoldier gives me strength to keep going. If Bucky could do it, why the hell can't I?_

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver_

* * *

 _January 23rd, 1942_

 _Three more regiments down. I can't remember the last time I slept for more than about two hours. I spent the last week sharing a foxhole with a young man called Gilbert Diggory. He was only nineteen - he got drafted about a month ago and sent straight to France (we're in France now, by the way). He died yesterday. The winter here was too cold for him, so he got hypothermia and couldn't shake it. I sent a message of condolence to his parents and fiancée. I buried his body. We're in an area of combat too heavy to get him out, so I found an untouched patch by a half-frozen lake and buried him there. He told me once his grandfather used a own a lake house, and that he loved it there. So that's why I picked that spot. I wish I could have done more, though._

 _I'm so close to giving up, Shadow. So close. More and more people are dying. I got hit in the shoulder today. A guy just along the line got an injury that was nearly identical. I healed in just over eleven hours. He died._

 _Sorry this one was so short, but it's really just too busy out here to get much time to write anything. This letter has been in the making for three days straight now._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _March 11th, 1942._

 _I had to shoot one of our own today. Maybe I'm going soft, having spent so long away from Hydra, but it hurt. He was a good man; he just gave into his fear. Tried to run in the other direction. So they took him out into a field and gave me and thirteen others a gun. Only one of them was loaded. Only one needed to be loaded. That one gun was mine. I don't think I'm supposed to know that, but I do. I shot a man who might as well have been my friend._

 _We've made progress, though. 32 miles in two weeks. I move onto my next regiment tomorrow morning. I'm gonna miss a lot of these guys. Apart from one or two, they're really decent people._

 _I had a letter from Colonel Phillips a few days ago. He was curt as usual. Not that I expected anything else, but it's scary that, when reading that letter, I could hear his voice in my head. He told me Erskine's hit a wall with the serum. You know which one I mean, I'm sure._ That _serum. So I've got a little less pressure on me to get this all wrapped up quickly. That being said, my original 18 regiments to visit has been increased now to around thirty. I'm having to visit an average of three to four regiments a month. Which is why I'm leaving tomorrow._

 _We're holed up in a village right now. The locals are surprisingly nice to us, though probably because they're like Switzerland - apparently, they let a German platoon stay here a week ago. They don't have any side to pick, so people leave them mostly alone. There's one particular couple living in a nearby farmhouse that are scarily like you and I. She's blonde with grey eyes, he's brown haired with blue eyes. They have the most adorable children - two girls and a boy, all under five. I had a minor breakdown when I was told their names. Karine,_ _Émilie, and Stéphane._ _Which apparently are the French versions of the names Katerina (a.k.a. Kaia), Emily, and Stephen. So, yeah, not my proudest moment, I have to admit._

 _Anyway, the parents seemed to take a liking to me (so did the dog, which got me thinking - maybe I should get myself a dog when all this is over), so they've invited me over for dinner. Which smells amazing, by the way. It'll be done in less than five minutes, according to Karine. So I'd better wrap this up._

 _I love you, Shadow. Never forget that, because I know I never will. I wish you were here. Seriously. You'd inhale Mrs Bellecourte's stew in seconds. It smells even better now than it did a minute ago. Maybe I'm just growing more hungry. Anyway, got to go._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _July 4th, 1942._

 _Four months. I got stuck up in a German war camp for four bloody months._

 _Okay, so maybe that requires some context. Around the middle of March, the regiment I was in got surrounded by about 200 Germans, who took us to a camp as POWs. They weren't sure what to do with me at first, because they knew I was a soldier, but I was also a woman. In the end I got put in with the nurses. Which was hilarious, because I know absolutely nothing about medicine. After about three days of me standing around without a clue in the world what to do (apart from the occasional time when I had to pin a guy to an operating table), I got moved to the soldier's working area. They had me hauling rocks. Much more my speed._

 _Someone - and I still don't know who - managed to get word out about where we were around two months after we arrived. And, lo and behold, another two months later, some Brits decide to show their asses and get us out. Well, some of us. There was a bit of a firestorm during the escape. Half the people there - men and women alike - got killed in the initial battle. Only around two dozen escaped unscathed. I wasn't one of them, but thanks to the serum, I was right as rain again about a day later. 17 more guys died from their wounds. That leaves about 60 of us still alive._

 _I'm okay now, though. Not long after I reported into my next regiment, I got about three letters from Phillips, which I'd missed over the four months I was imprisoned. Erskine has finally managed to get past his little hiccup, but he still hasn't perfected the serum. Phillips reckons he'll be able to pull me out by around October. Looking forward to it._

 _He's moved around a bit. He's now bunked in Wisconsin, of all places. So that's where I'll be going back to, if he doesn't move between now and then. You'll probably recognise the name - Camp McCoy. That's where I trained you (am going to train you, from my point of view), right?_

 _God, time travel is a nightmare._

 _Speaking of which: By sheer luck, the Germans never found the Time Stone. It could have been the literal end of the world if they did._

 _Oh, and, in other news, I got promoted the day I appeared at my next regiment after the escape. Apparently, everyone who was captured by the Germans (and survived) got promoted. So I'm officially a Sergeant Major now, which is pretty cool._

 _As always, I wish you were here with me. But at least I have the war to keep me from moping too much. Sort of. I still have nightmares sometimes. I've remembered more things. I thought I had all my memories back, but about a week ago I received around a year's worth of memories I didn't even know were missing. I killed a little girl, Shadow. She wasn't my target, but I still killed her. I shot my target through a window, and some of the shattered glass implanted itself in the side of her head. And what did I do? Absolutely nothing. That's the worst of it. At the time, I didn't even care_. _When I get back to that time (it was 1988, I think), I'm going to try to apologise to that family. I don't expect their forgiveness, but I have to do something, right?_

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _September 11th, 1942._

 _I have just officially been given the best birthday present EVER! I'm going back home! Erskine had a breakthrough about a week ago, and the serum's pretty much done now. So, as per our agreement, Phillips has sent the order to get me back home. Well, to America. I move around so much, I'm even sure what 'home' is anymore. But I digress. I'm going back. And I could not be happier. Well, okay, fine, I could, but under the circumstances, I doubt it can get much better than this._

 _So you have that great gift to try to beat, Shadow, sweetheart. I have high expectations._

 _I kid of course._

 _I don't know if you can tell, but I'm really excited. You can probably tell. Sorry. I don't mean to ramble, but I haven't been this excited in months. The guys are super jealous, of course. They're still stuck out here. I feel sorry for them, but none of the men here were drafted - they all signed up for this. I didn't. Not really._

 _So yeah, nine months at war and I managed to get around to 23 regiments. Not bad, particularly considering I spent about three and half months longer at one of them than I intended to (that was when I got captured by Germans)._

 _This might be the last letter I write, Shadow. And if it isn't, it's gonna be a long time before I get to write another one. Because it's nearly time for you and Steve to get here. I wish I could do something to stop you falling from that train, but I know that too much would change if you don't. So forgive me, but I'm just going to have to stand back and let it happen. Maybe I'm just being selfish, trying to keep you all to myself. You're gonna go through hell, and I wish I could be there with you, by your side. But I can't. I'll just have to watch from afar and hope I don't lose myself in the process._

 _For what it's worth, I would go through hell if it meant having you on the other side. I hope you feel the same, otherwise I'm about to seriously screw things up._

 _I should probably go. I'm being called to the command tent. No doubt about when I leave. Still missing you as much as ever (maybe even more so)._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._


	12. 12 - You Just Have To

**A/N: This one's a little shorter than the last, but, on the plus side, BUCKY! That's right, we're nearing the events of the First Avenger now. Sorry for taking a little longer to update - I've just been super busy the past few days and haven't had the time. Hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think!**

 **Big thanks to: deadbyapril122, Liz10s, fnf2life, Victorie Evans, TheJaneOfAllTrades and TMNTGirl for favouriting/following. Thanks guys!**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Lara Barnes: I'm glad you liked the format - I wasn't sure it would be well received. As for James' reaction... you may have to wait a little longer. ;)**

 **TMNTGirl: Aww, thanks :) You have no idea how happy that makes me, and I really appreciate it, so thanks again!**

 **Eryniel Alasse: I'm glad to hear you liked it - I honestly had a lot of fun writing those letters, even if I wasn't sure how good they'd be in the end. Thinking I might do something similar again. We'll see.**

* * *

 **12 - You Just Have To**

I arrived back in America in early October, and it was about a month before Bucky Barnes appeared on the camp. He didn't exactly look happy to be there, but seemed to get on well enough with everyone else.

It was a whole day later before he saw me. And when he did, he seemed completely stunned.

"Evie?"

"Don't call me that."

Bucky laughed. "Wow, it's been a while."

I nodded, stopping in front of him, a half-loaded pistol in my hand. We were by the firing range, and no doubt he'd been drawn by the sound of my shooting. "More than three years. How've you been, Barnes?"

He shrugged. "Not too bad. Kept out of trouble." I raised an eyebrow. He looked sheepish. "Mostly."

I shook my head. "You're a terrible liar, Bucky," I said with a grin. "How's Steve doing?"

"You remember him?"

"I have a good memory," I said simply. "And the first impression I got of him wasn't exactly easy to forget, either."

Bucky looked at me for a few seconds, then shrugged again. "He's okay, I guess. He's a bit frustrated - he's trying to get into the army, and he keeps failing. Stubborn bastard doesn't stop trying, though."

I smiled. "Maybe one day he'll get lucky," I said simply, raising my arm and firing the last eight bullets in my mag. They all hit the centre of the target.

Bucky whistled. "You've got a good aim," he commented.

Smiling, I simply said, "Years of practice." I placed the gun down and turned to face Bucky with a frown. "You don't seem very pleased to be here."

He shook his head, looking peeved. "Nah, I got drafted. Didn't really have a choice."

"The army needs guys like you."

"They already have plenty."

"No they don't," I said sharply. "I've been out there, Barnes. There will never be enough men. That's why people are getting dragged in. We don't want to have to do it, but we don't have a choice."

"You've been at the front?"

I nodded. "Spent nine months in Europe. Got back about a month ago."

"What's it like?"

I paused, glancing down at my hands and then sighing heavily. "It's not pretty," I admitted. "Every day you wonder whether it's gonna be the day you lose your life. But then you look around you, see all the people who are beside you, and you realise that sometimes you just have to do it, you know? It's easier when you have something to fight for."

"Do you? Have something to fight for?"

"I have a lot of things, but not much of it is really very personal." I shook my head. "I don't have any family waiting for me. Just Agatha. And I haven't seen her in years."

"But you still fight. Why? If not for Agatha, or for yourself... Why do you still fight?"

My eyes met his, my face serious. "I fight for the men I've held in my arms, dying on foreign soil. I fight for their wives and children, whose names I heard whispered in their last breaths. I fight for we few who _have_ come home, never to be the same again. I fight so that all the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing. I fight... because I must." It was the truth, even if I was sure most of that had come from a movie or a game or something. It was the truth, and it seemed to stir something within Bucky. His face loosened the longer I spoke, and that irritation about being dragged into the war slowly faded away.

Bucky smiled sadly and nodded his head. "I can see why they like having you to train people," he said, and I couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter.

"Trust me, Bucky, it's not because of anything else. I can fight. I can teach. Maybe I can inspire others to do the same. But I sure as hell am not a soldier."

Bucky frowned. "How are they different?"

"Soldiers need to know how to take orders. I'm terrible at that. I follow the orders I choose to. The higher-ups hate it, but I don't really care what they think. And they clearly don't mind as much as they say, since I'm still here."

Bucky nodded slowly. "So, are you going to be my trainer?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I think so. But just so you know, the fact that I know you out of the army doesn't change anything. While I'm doing my job, all previous attachments get forgotten. So don't be expecting any special treatment."

Bucky laughed. "Believe me, Evie-"

"Don't call me that."

"-I wouldn't ever expect anything like that." He grinned at me. "You know, I'd say you're more of a soldier than you think." Then he winked at me (which honestly surprised me), turned on his heel, and walked away, throwing a haphazard wave over his shoulder as he went.

I shook my head. "You're incorrigible, Barnes," I called after him.

"You still love me!"

I smiled sadly. "Yes, I suppose I do," I murmured to myself.

* * *

I stood in front of Phillips, completely astounded. "You want me to do what?"

Phillips rolled his eyes. "I want you to go about your normal business," he told me.

"With a camera following me around? Are you serious?"

"I'm deadly serious. The President wants footage that'll make more men willing to sign up. You're such an unusual character that you're the best candidate to be filmed."

"I honestly don't know how to respond to that, Colonel. Why is watching other men getting trained to their absolute limits going to convince other's to go through the same thing?"

Phillips sighed. "I want you to change your usual routine. Make them do the song thing today. That always ends up with good results. Maybe give an encouraging speech or two." He passed me an envelope, which, when I opened it, I found had the usual first instruction for this particular challenge. I assumed the rest were already in place.

I groaned. "Fine," I said after a moment, "but there'll be no showgirls or make up artists or any of that. It has to be as real as possible."

Colonel Phillips nodded. "Agreed. Now go. The camera should already be set up."

I sighed, but headed out of the tent, finding the camera was already pointed at me. I ignored it even as it followed me after I walked past. This group of men was about thirty strong, and Bucky was included in their number.

"Alright," I said sharply, and instantly all attention was on me. "You know why you're here. The world is at its most vulnerable, and it needs people to help protect it. You are to be those people. Maybe you don't know how to fight yet. That's fine. Maybe you don't know what your strengths and weaknesses are. That's what you're here to find out. I'm going to be honest with you; it's not going to be easy. But it'll be worth it. No single man can win a war on his own. But, with enough dedication and determination, a single man can turn the tides of a war in his favour. We all have the power to become the heroes this country needs. All anyone needs is a little guidance to start them on the right path." I sent them a half-smile. "That's where I come in. Now, usually, I'll do this a bit differently, but today I'm going to start you off with a nice and easy challenge. It will hopefully lift your spirits, and will help improve the sense of camaraderie between you all." I held up the envelope Phillips had given me. "In here is your first instruction for today. It will lead you to your next one. On average, this takes around two hours to complete. We'll come back here when you're done. Now go!" I handed the envelope to the first man to pass me, and then stepped aside to let them work this out by themselves.

The camera stayed on the soldiers for a while, before turning to me. Once again, I ignored it, choosing instead to examine my men. Today, I would follow them. I would see how they worked. Maybe that could make up for lost time from training.

So when the guys went off to their first checkpoint, I went with them, and the camera crew followed behind.

* * *

By the end of two hours, the guys had created their song. I had to admit, it was quite amusing to watch them try to come up with words that rhymed (they'd spent nearly twenty minutes trying to come up with a word that rhymed with orange, after which I just told them to use red as a replacement), but in the end, they got it done.

Every now and then I would pull out a few of the guys and would give them an impromptu sparring lesson. In that time, all of the men were evaluated, and I had a decent idea as to which field they would fall into. The camera hovered around the group the whole time, recording their smiles and laughs, recording the sparring matches. Recording everything. Sometimes the camera would swivel back to me talking to the guys between a few of the instructions, but it wasn't exactly hard to ignore. I just completely blocked the cameraman from view.

That was, at least, until one of the crew piped up during a moment of quiet.

"Sergeant Major Moore?"

I sent my hard gaze at the man, and wasn't oblivious to the slight tremble of nerves in his stance. "Yes?"

"Would you mind giving a demonstration of a few of your skills? We've got you fighting hand-to-hand, but could you show something else? Doesn't have to be anything that's particularly realistic, just... show off."

I paused, considering. Then, I nodded. "Yeah, sure." I walked over to the arms box (which the Colonel had informed me I now had to take with me, just in case of an attack) and opened it. Several different weapon types sat inside. I pulled out two grenades and a standard pistol, before kicking the box shut again. I placed the pistol in my belt, then held a grenade in each hand. A few of the guys looked a little nervous. I chuckled. "Relax - I know what I'm doing," I said with an easy grin, and many seemed to loosen up a bit. I used my teeth to pull out the pins in the grenades, before launching them vertically into the air with all my strength. I then drew my pistol and fired two shots. The grenades exploded, one after the other, in mid-air. I then swivelled on my feet and pointed the pistol in the face of the man who had - foolishly - thought he could sneak up on me. "If you were my enemy, I wouldn't have hesitated," I told him sharply. "You're lucky I didn't immediately make that assumption." I holstered the pistol again. "Get back in line, soldier." He nodded and joined the line, the other guys grinning at him. I rolled my eyes. "I've had much more tough training than any of you," I told them seriously. "My previous trainers taught me to fight without the advantage of both sight and sound. I've learned to notice other things. It is almost impossible to sneak up on me." I paused, then added with a grin, "And if a single one of you manages it, it'll be a bloody miracle." I shook my head. "Well, keep going. These instructions won't complete themselves."

* * *

By the time the camera crew disappeared, I was ready to tear a few hairs out. I really was. Even though the cameraman himself had been easy enough to ignore, his constant _presence_ was not so easy to remove from my mind. Which was frustrating. So I did what I usually did when I was frustrated - went in search of something to shoot. Instead, I crossed paths with Bucky.

"Hey, Evie," he greeted.

"Don't make me say it again, Barnes," I responded blandly.

Bucky just grinned, knowing I wasn't really going to do anything. He was lucky about that. "What're you up to?"

"Why? The other guys not entertaining enough for you?"

His face fell a little. "No, they're fine, I just... I dunno. None of them are from Brooklyn."

"Neither am I, really."

"Maybe not, but that's where I met you," he pointed out. "I know you better, that's all. Beside, it never hurts to become friends with a woman who can take a bullet to the stomach and not even flinch."

"The only reason I can do that is because I've faced far worse in the past," I told him solemnly. "It's not necessarily something to be proud of."

"It's handy in a pinch, though."

I chuckled. "Yeah, that's true." I eyed him for a moment, before saying, "Come with me, Barnes." I led him to where a few guns were laid out waiting, before picking up a fairly hefty sniper rifle. I passed it to him, noticing that, even though he seemed incredibly cautious with the weapon in his hands, it also settled comfortably there. Like it was made for him, and him for it. "How does it feel?"

"Heavy," was the immediate response.

I rolled my eyes. "Is it comfortable?" I rephrased.

"Uh, yeah, I suppose. It's not _un_ comfortable."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Why did you give me this?"

I chuckled. "Call it intuition," I told him with a crooked grin. "I have a feeling guns like that are going to be your specialty."

"You can work that out from such a short amount of time?"

"I've known you for years, Bucky," I reminded him.

"Well, yeah, but we've only met twice."

"I only ever need a few hours," I admitted. "When you've got the experience I have, you learn how to make quick and usually very accurate judgements on people. Now, come on. There's a sniping post not too far from here. I want to see how you do."


	13. 13 - Everyone Is Weak Sometimes

**A/N: Some feels in this. Sorry, not sorry. Also, this is entirely from Bucky's POV, so it's a bit different to normal. Enjoy! :)**

 **Big thanks to: doctor3378 and jigokunooujo for following. Thank you, guys! :D**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Lara Barnes: Heh, perhaps, but Daphne probably terrifies him in a way, so that's got to help her :P**

 **NESSAANCALIME6913: Genuinely do not know if that was sarcasm or not...**

 **TMNTGirl: Well, Daphne can't really tell him she knows the future version of him, and she can get away with telling him that. Glad you enjoyed it :)**

* * *

 **13 - Everyone Is Weak Sometimes**

Bucky had been amazed when Evelyn first gave him the gun. It had felt heavy in hand, but at the same time, it felt... well, he wasn't really sure. The first word that came to his head was 'right', but he'd never feel right with a gun in his hands. The thought of taking other lives made him feel somewhat queasy, and he really wasn't looking forward to going out there and fighting. No matter what Evelyn told him, that aversion to war would still be there.

But somehow, Evelyn helped to make it easier. Maybe it was her overall nonchalance, or maybe it was the fact that she _knew_ about... had _experience_ with all this. He wasn't sure. But he felt safer around her. He knew the chances of being attacked in an army secure camp were slim, but it had happened. He'd read in the paper once that Fort Hamilton, where Evelyn used to work, had received a German visitor who was quickly taken into custody. So it could happen still.

The two of them had spent nearly two hours at the sniping post, the day growing darker the longer they stayed there, testing his abilities. The first shot had jarred his shoulder somewhat, but after that, he came away unscathed. It took only an hour before he could accurately hit a fairly small target from 500 metres away. After that, he was just improving his aim.

Evelyn had slapped him strongly on the shoulder (he would never admit to her that the hit actually stung slightly), and, with a smile on her face that looked - of all things - _proud_ , she told him, "You're an excellent shot, Barnes. With enough time, you could be one of the best marksmen in the force."

"I think you're exaggerating a bit," he grumbled, holding the gun in his arms.

Evelyn shook her head. "No, Bucky, I'm not. I mean it." She smiled. "Goodnight, soldier."

"Goodnight, Evie."

Evelyn stopped mid-step and turned to face him with an entirely too innocent expression on her face. Bucky instantly felt wary. "Bucky," she said slowly, "if you don't stop calling me that, the next time I see one, I'm going to throw you in a lake."

He couldn't help but grin. "Looking forward to it, ma'am," he said with a lazy salute.

"You've been warned, soldier," she said, semi-sternly. "Now go get some sleep. Training's going to be tough tomorrow."

* * *

Bucky was woken during the night by the sound of screaming. Based on the pitch of the voice, he knew it could only be coming from one person. He rolled out of bed, haphazardly pulled his boots on, and then made his way towards her tent with just a loose shirt and his trousers. He was surprised to see a crowd had gathered around Evelyn's tent, but no one seemed inclined to go inside.

"What's going on?" he asked one of the guys nearest to him, whose name he didn't know.

"Nightmares," came the reply.

"Yes, I figured that out, thanks. Why isn't anyone doing anything?"

"Sergeant Major Moore has a habit of... lashing out... at whoever tries to wake her up," Colonel Phillips said from his own tent. He looked grumpy but resigned, as if this was a common occurrence. "And that's on a regular day. It's worse when she's like this. It's best just to wait it out."

"And let her relive whatever horrors are plaguing her?" Bucky asked, feeling tendrils of disgust curl in his stomach. "Surely it's better for someone to get a little beat up than for her to have to go through that."

"If you want to try to wake her up, by all means, go ahead," Phillips stated blandly. "Don't complain if you end up with a bruise on your neck and a broken hand, like the last guy."

Ignoring the looks of the men around him, and resolving himself to deal with whatever pain that would be sent his way, Bucky entered Evelyn's tent. She was completely cocooned in her blanket, curled up in a ball. Her pillows were wet from the tears steadily streaming from her eyes. As soon as he started moving towards her, Evelyn thrashed and let out another scream, face contorting with pain.

Steeling himself, Bucky walked closer to her. "It's alright, Evie," he said gently, making sure to keep his steps quiet and his pace slow, so as not to startle her. "You're okay, you're safe. What you're seeing is not real." He cautiously perched himself on an empty part of her bed and placed a hand on her shoulder, flinching when Evelyn's whole body tensed up, as if ready for a fight. "I'm here for you, doll." He didn't know why he said that, but it was as if those words were all she needed to wake up. She shot upright, breathing heavily, body soaked in a cold sweat, tears lying stagnant on her cheek. "You're alright," he continued to murmur, hoping a familiar voice would calm her down. He would be amazed if she couldn't hear his heart beat, which was pounding against his ribs, as if his heart was trying to break out. "You're safe, Evie. You're okay. It was just a dream."

"It wasn't a dream," she croaked, finally shifting her half-glazed eyes his way. She blinked a few times, and her eyes cleared, though were still filled with sorrow and pain. "It was a memory."

Bucky decided to take the risk. He gently laid his hand over hers, feeling how cold and clammy the skin was. Her whole body jerked at the contact, her wide eyes darting to where his skin met hers. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Evelyn shook her head immediately. "I don't even want to remember it," she said mournfully.

He nodded in understanding. "Just know... if you ever change your mind, you can come to me."

Evelyn gave him a sad smile. "Thank you, Bucky." Bucky nodded again, and was about to stand up, when suddenly Evelyn's fingers wrapped around his, and she was tugging him back down. He sent her a questioning look. "Stay," she begged. "Please."

Swallowing back the sudden tightness in his throat, Bucky acquiesced. He sandwiched her hands between his, trying to get some warmth back into them. "You know," he said slowly, "whenever I used to have nightmares, my mother would come in without a word, take me in her arms, and start naming stars."

"...Naming stars?" Evelyn echoed, frowning. "Why?"

"She used to tell me that stars are the spirits of angels, keeping watch during the night. It sounds silly, I know, but it helped. I didn't get nightmares as much after that."

Evelyn smiled sadly. "I don't believe in angels anymore," she admitted. "I've been involved in too much evil to believe anyone or anything has any power over this world. There are other beings out there, who we might call Gods, but who are just as mortal as us. They will live, perhaps for longer than the rest of us, but they will nonetheless die. Nothing is eternal."

"So what do you believe in?" he asked.

Evelyn blinked a few times, clearly not expecting the question, and then a thoughtful expression fell into place. Noticing that her hands were now the same temperature as his, Bucky slowly pulled his hands away from hers. It was quiet for a long time, before Evelyn, rather hesitantly, admitted, "Second chances."

Bucky was surprised. "Why that?"

"Every creature ever to live will make mistakes. So long as they believe in love and do their best to show grace and forgiveness to others, everyone has the ability to _grow_. People need to be able to think for themselves, not blindly follow others, and they need to be responsible for what they do and what they've done in the past. If a person feels severe guilt and commits to positive change, it's alright to be forgiven and move forwards. In fact, it should be encouraged. If no one was ever offered a second chance, nothing would change."

"And were you offered that second chance?"

Evelyn looked up at him, her eyes wide. "A second chance for what?"

Bucky almost rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Evie, I'm not blind, and I'm not stupid. Everything you can do... it's incredible, and, frankly, unbelievable. No one will ever be trained to the extent you were without someone pulling some strings on the other end. You were trained for a purpose. And usually that purpose is to hurt someone." Evelyn opened her mouth to speak, but Bucky held up a hand to stop her. "I don't know what you did in the past, but, no matter what it is, no matter how dark, I won't hold it against you. It's in the past, after all. I just want to know... Were you offered that second chance?"

Evelyn smiled, the expression on her face wistful. "Yes," she said. "Somehow, amazingly, the answer to that question is 'yes'." She shook her head. "I shouldn't be forgiven for what I did. But it's nice to know people are allowing me the opportunity to try to make up for it."

Bucky smiled. "Then, whenever you have a nightmare, use your belief in second chances to drive that fear away. I don't know what you dreamed about, but I _do_ know that, whatever it was, it's done. If you really feel you have to, you can make up for it. But, please, Evie, don't carry this weight by yourself. Even the strongest people in the world have limits. It's okay to show weakness sometimes."

Evelyn nodded. "I know." She smiled, though there was still a hint of sadness there. "You remind me of him," she admitted quietly.

"Who?"

"The man I love," she said, and for some reason, his chest felt suddenly tight. "I think that's why I didn't hurt you when you woke me up. Part of me must have thought you were _him._ He was the only person who could ever wake me up peacefully."

"In what way do I remind you of him?"

"You sound the same," she said immediately. "You look similar." She shook her head, then, her voice barely more a whisper, she told him, "I miss him, Bucky. So damn much."

"Where is he?"

"Somewhere beyond my reach," came the vague response. Her eyes had become glassy again, lost in her own mind. "It hurts sometimes, having you here. Because you just look _so_ alike, and sometimes, when I look at you, I see _him_ instead, and am forced to remember that he's not with me anymore."

"I'm sorry to bring you that pain," Bucky murmured despondently.

Evelyn vigorously shook her head. "Don't apologise. It's not your fault - it's mine. I just... can't get over him. No, I _won't_. Because some day, I _know_ I'm going to see him again, and that's enough to keep me going." She then sent him a crooked smile. "Besides, you're different enough personality-wise for me to tell the difference."

"I'm glad...?"

Evelyn chuckled, then a surprisingly serious expression came over her face, and she suddenly grasped his hand and squeezed it. "Thank you for being my friend, Bucky. You might just be the person I need to help me stay strong right now."

Bucky could feel that easy, suave grin curl onto his face. "Anything for you, Evie."

Evelyn smacked him. Hard. On the shoulder he'd hurt earlier that day. He sent her a mock-glare. "I'm lacking a lake right now, so that'll have to do instead," she said simply, as if that was all the explanation she'd ever need.

"Did you have to hit _that_ shoulder, though?"

She shrugged. "Go for your enemy's weakness."

"How is it you can go from 'thank you for being my friend' to 'you're my enemy' in ten seconds?"

Evelyn laughed. "I'm just special like that." She gave him a shove. "Now go. I'll be okay, and everyone needs some sleep."

Bucky stood slowly. "You sure you're okay?"

Her smile and eyes softened, and she nodded. "I'm alright," she assured him. "Thanks to you."

He winked at her, unable to resist. "Goodnight, Evie."

"Goodnight, Buck."

When Bucky ducked out of the tent, he found an even bigger crowd than before, staring at him as if he'd gone crazy. "Don't know what you were making such a fuss about," he said breezily, unable to fight the cocky grin begging to show. "She's good for now. Go back to bed - I hear tomorrow's gonna be hell." And then without another word he headed back for his tent, feeling an unbidden surge of pride grow in his chest.


	14. 14 - The World Exposition Of Tomorrow

**A/N: So this is a nice long one, that skips over about half a year. I express that in the chapter itself, but figured I'd write it here as well, just in case. So this is the start of the First Avenger. Enjoy :)**

 **Big thanks to NorthwesternBaby for favouriting and following :)**

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 **Lara Barnes: Aww, that made me really smile. Thanks so much :P**

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 **angelAnabiel: Unfortunately, those types of chapters won't be all that common. They're in a war, after all. Glad you liked it, though!**

* * *

 **14 - The World Exposition of Tomorrow**

"Shouldn't you be sleeping, soldier?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest as I stood in the doorway of the mess room, where Bucky was nursing a bottle of beer. He and a few others had left the camp to get a drink earlier, and now Bucky was sat on his own, finishing off his drink while everyone else had already retired for the night.

Bucky glanced up at me, before shrugging. "Probably. Don't really feel like it, though."

I frowned, moving closer and then sitting beside him. "Why? What's wrong?"

Bucky sighed, swirling his beer in the bottle, before taking a large gulp. "It's nothing," he said shortly.

I scoffed. "If it's keeping you up, it's clearly not nothing. Come on, Buck, tell me."

He stared at me for a good few seconds before letting out a long breath. "It sounds stupid," he grumbled, "but I'm just... feeling a little homesick, I guess."

"That's not stupid," I told him with a roll of my eyes. "Everyone gets homesick every once in a while."

He raised his eyebrows, looking at me in disbelief. "Even you?"

" _Especially_ me," I corrected with a grim smile. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yeah, well, if I were to tell anyone else, they'd tell me to suck it and keep it to myself," Bucky said bitterly.

Rolling my eyes, I repeated firmly, "There is nothing wrong with it, Bucky. Nothing at all. Our home is our safe haven, our place of comfort. Of course you miss it. I'm sure most of the guys out there do too, even if they're too cowardly to admit it."

"That's not the worst of it, though," Bucky grumbled, finishing off his beer with a single throw back of his head, and then planting the bottle firmly on the wooden table. "When I return home, I'm gonna return to the same streets and homes, to the same people. But I just _know_ that everything will have moved on in my absence. There'll be this big gaping hole, filled with all the things I should have been a part of, but have instead missed in the time I've been away." He shook his head. "I'm scared that going back there will mean facing my old friends and being greeted by complete strangers instead."

Placing a hand on his shoulder, I told him softly, "Even if that _does_ happen - which I doubt it will - you'll have every chance to catch up. And I know you will, because you believe it's worth it." I leaned back and gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "Besides, your basic finishes next week, and you'll get to go home."

Bucky sighed and slowly shook his head. "No, I won't," he murmured. "I'm being kept back for a few more months."

I blinked. "Why?"

"Because I'm doing well," he said simply. "They want to keep me and two or three others for further training - by you, I think, which doesn't surprise me. I'd have thought you'd know by now."

I shook my head. "No, I'm usually one of the last to find out about these sorts of things," I informed him with a bitter laugh. "I'm sorry you won't get to go home, Bucky, but, for what it's worth, I'm kind of glad. It's selfish, but I'm happy I'll have the chance to spend more time with you."

Bucky's face twitched into a meagre smile. "Yeah," he said after a quick pause. "Me too."

* * *

I left the command tent, feeling strangely happy with my orders for the next few days. Colonel Phillips had called me to his tent, where he told Doctor Erskine and myself that he wanted us to head to Queens for the World Exposition of Tomorrow (or the Stark Expo, as I called it in my head). I had requested that I head to Brooklyn beforehand, and, amazingly, the Colonel had neither denied it nor even questioned it. He'd just said I had to be at the fair when it started.

So upon leaving, I immediately searched for my not-so-secret favourite soldier, who'd not long ago been promoted to the rank of Sergeant. Which he was both ecstatic and slightly concerned about.

"Hey, Evie," he greeted cheerfully, before laughing and easily dodging the slow punch I aimed his way. "You look pretty chipper. Something happen?"

"I've got leave to go back to Brooklyn with you."

Bucky's face lit up. The two of us had become great friends in the six months he'd been training here, and he'd begged me to go back with him to have a night of fun before he got sent to England. I wasn't entirely sure what Bucky's idea of a 'night of fun' was, and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out, but I had to admit I wanted to spend a little more time with him before he got shipped off. "That's great news! I'll finally get to introduce you to Steve."

"We _have_ met before, you know?"

"Yeah, but not officially," he said, throwing an arm around my shoulder, which I quickly shook off, sending him a stony look that morphed almost immediately into a fond grin. Bucky really was a good guy, and while sometimes I still saw him as James, usually it was easy to separate the two. "When do we leave?"

"Whenever you're ready, Buck Sergeant."

"How about now?"

I laughed, nudging him slightly. "Eager to go home, Bucky?"

"Always."

I nodded. "Then let's go."

* * *

"Seriously? Again?" Bucky sighed heavily, before striding quickly towards the guy who was bullying little Steve. "Hey!" he shouted, pulling the man off Steve and moving himself between the brute and his friend. "Pick on someone your own size." The bully of a man threw a punch at Bucky, but he easily dodged out the way and threw his own, powerful right-hook. The brute stumbled, and one secure kick in the ass sent him scuttling away, not even sparing me a glance. Bucky turned to Steve. "You know, sometimes I think you like getting punched."

"I had him on the ropes," Steve mumbled, wiping the small dribble of blood from his nose.

Bucky leaned down and picked up a file from the floor, opening it curiously. He let out a small sigh. "How many times is this?"

"Did you get your orders?" Steve asked, ignoring Bucky's question.

Bucky let it slide, nodding his head. "The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping off for England first thing tomorrow."

"I should be going."

"Maybe you will," I said, finally drawing attention to myself. Steve flushed slightly, seeming ashamed to be caught in such a situation (again). Either that, or he thought I was going to call him out on the fact he was lying on his enlistment form, since I was still wearing my army uniform, and to do so was illegal.

"Hopefully," he said. Then he held out a hand. "Steve Rogers."

"Evelyn Moore," I said with a grin, taking his hand. "And I know. We've met."

"We have?" Steve asked in confusion.

Bucky grinned. "Evie here-"

"Bucky!"

"-saved your ass from being beaten up a few years ago."

"He would have been fine without me," I said, rolling my eyes. "Just happened to be in the right place at the right time. And, for God's sake, _stop calling me that!_ "

Steve frowned. "Aren't you the woman from the promos?"

I stared at him, then sighed. "Yeah, probably."

Bucky chuckled. "You hate having those cameras around," he said teasingly.

"I'm amazed you _don't_."

Bucky shrugged. "They're not aimed at me."

"I can probably arrange to change that next time one of those cameramen shows up at camp."

"Too bad; I'll be on the the other side of the ocean by the time that happens."

I hummed, then smirked. "I'll have to remember to push you in the sea before you board."

Bucky blinked. "Why?"

"Do you not remember? I promised to throw you in a lake if you kept calling me Evie. The sea is the next best thing." I turned back to Steve and grinned. "I've no idea how you cope with him."

"Honestly, I don't," Steve muttered dryly, and I laughed.

"Come on," Bucky said, throwing an arm around Steve's shoulders and trying to do the same with mine. I stepped out of reach with the same face as usual. He just grinned. "This is my last night," he continued, facing Steve again. "Gotta get you cleaned up."

"Why? Where're we going?"

Bucky passed Steve the newspaper he pulled from his jacket pocket. "The future."

* * *

I looked around at all the bright lights and strange contraptions, and couldn't help but think that they weren't too far off about what the future would look like. Though there'd be a lot more skyscrapers.

" _You seem deep in thought, my dear_." Erskine said in German. He seemed happy to converse in his native tongue, and since I could also speak it, he preferred to talk to me in German. So I humoured him.

I turned and smiled slightly at the scientist. " _Sorry_ ," I said. " _I'm just distracted_."

" _By what?_ "

I shrugged. " _Everything, I suppose. I feel like I should be preparing for a firestorm. It's... not a very nice feeling_."

Doctor Erskine nodded, as if he knew what I meant. " _Well, come on, Miss Moore. We have a job to do, after all_."

" _I have a good feeling about today, Doctor. I think we'll find our man here_."

" _What makes you say that?_ "

" _Because I've already met him_ ," I answered simply. " _And he seems like the kind of guy to try enlisting whenever he sees the chance. You'll probably know him if - when - you see him._ "

" _What is his name?_ "

" _Steve Rogers._ "

Doctor Erskine nodded. " _I'll make sure to keep an eye out for him_."

Smiling, I patted him gently on the shoulder. " _Everything will be better before long, Doctor. I can promise you that_."

" _Can you? Can you promise that this will work?_ "

I nodded, face serious. " _The serum_ will _work. We_ will _win the war. I have faith in that. And, hell, if I'm wrong, you can sue me_."

Doctor Erskine chuckled. " _You are very strange, Miss Moore_."

" _Thank you_."

He smiled again. " _Well, we best get to work_."

* * *

I stayed by Erskine's side most of the night, anticipating the arrival of Bucky and Steve. It wasn't a particularly long wait. I knew that, as soon as Howard Stark's presentation was started, it would only be a matter of minutes before Steve came over here. I gently tapped Erskine on the shoulder and nodded towards the skinny blonde when he finally appeared.

" _Is that him?_ "

I nodded my head, saying nothing, before ducking out of sight when Steve looked our way. Doctor Erskine made a show of appearing busy when Bucky came up to Steve, looking exasperated. "You really gonna do this again?" he asked.

Steve shrugged. "Well, it's a fair. I'm gonna try my luck."

"As who? Steve from Ohio?" Bucky shook his head. "They'll catch you. Worse, they'll actually take you."

"Look, I know you don't think I can do this-"

"This isn't a back alley, Steve!" Bucky cried, looking borderline frantic. "It's a war."

"I know it's a war. You don't have to tell me."

Bucky's eyes narrowed. "Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs."

"What am I gonna do?" Steve bit back scathingly. "Collect scrap metal-"

"Yes!"

"-in my little red wagon?"

"Why not?"

Steve shook his head. "I'm not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky." Bucky went to argue again, but Steve cut him off. "Bucky, come on! There are men laying down their lives. I've got no right to do any less than them. That's what you don't understand. This isn't about me."

Bucky looked doubtfully at his little friend. "Right," he said, unconvinced. "Because you've got nothing to prove." His shoulders slumped, and I could tell that he'd given up. He stepped back, towards the girls he'd flagged as his and Steve's dates (which I was silently moping about, I had to admit). "Don't do anything stupid until I get back," he said sternly.

Steve finally cracked a small grin. "How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

Bucky chuckled, and while I couldn't hear him, I knew it had happened due to the slight shaking of his shoulders. He started to approach Steve again. "You're a punk," he said fondly.

"Jerk," Steve said in return, the two of them embracing briefly. Bucky drew back and started to walk away again. "Don't win the war until I get there!" Steve called.

Bucky spun on his heels sharply, saluted, and then went back to the girls.

I turned to Erskine and raised an eyebrow, as if to say ' _I told you so._ ' He smiled and nodded, before he and I disappeared back into the recruitment place.

It was only a few minutes later when Steve was admitted to one of the small examination wings, and Erskine stepped forward to ask a nurse to deliver the message to clear Steve's little room. Erskine entered first once the examination man left, giving me a wide berth. I frowned after him, wondering why he seemed so wary of me. Maybe he'd seen the promos. So he knew what I could do. I wasn't sure how I felt about suddenly appearing so terrifying to people I was fighting alongside.

Or maybe I was just completely overthinking things. Wouldn't be the first time.

"So," Erskine said from the other side of the curtain. "You want to go overseas? Kill some Nazis?"

"Excuse me?" Steve said as I entered the tent. The small blonde didn't seem to notice me, his eyes on Erskine.

"Doctor Abraham Erskine," the German said, introducing himself. "I represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve."

Steve slowly replied with, "Steve Rogers." Erskine moved to the bed and began flicking through Steve's files, and Steve finally glanced over at me. But I kept my face carefully blank. "Where are you from?" Steve asked Erskine.

The scientist looked up. "Queens," he answered. "73rd Street and Utopia Parkway. Before that, Germany. This bothers you?" Steve shook his head. Erskine went back to examining the file. "And where are you from, Mr Rogers? Is it New Haven? Or Paramus?" He closed the file. "Five exams in five different cities."

"That might not be the right file," Steve said hurriedly, eyes bulging in alarm.

"Relax, Rogers," I said with a quick grin. "It's not actually the exams we're interested in. He just wants to see you sweat a little."

Erskine sent me a scolding look, before nodding. "Evelyn is right. It's the five tries that interest me. But you didn't answer my question." Steve looked confused. "Do you want to kill Nazis?"

"Is this a test?" Steve asked, wary.

Erskine smiled. "Yes."

Steve sighed, then said honestly, "I don't want to kill anyone. I don't like bullies. I don't care where they're from."

"Well," Erskine said firmly, "there are already so many big guys fighting in this war. Perhaps what we need now is a little guy, huh? I can offer you a chance." He left the room, Steve following closely behind, and me tagging on at the rear. "Only a chance," the Doctor continued.

"I'll take it," Steve said, without hesitation.

"Good." Erskine stamped Steve's file, the black '1A' dominating the square in the corner. "So, where is the little guy really from?"

Steve smiled. "Brooklyn."

Erskine nodded and handed Steve the file. "Congratulations, soldier."

"You head out to New Jersey first thing in the morning," I told Steve, handing him a piece of paper with his orders. "0700."

"Tomorrow?!"

I nodded. "Sorry, Steve, but we can't really afford to wait. It's got to be either tomorrow, or three months from now."

"But Bucky-"

"I'll be there to say goodbye," I told him quietly, in a voice that I doubted even Erskine would be able to hear. "I can tell him anything you want to say."

Steve hesitated, then shook his head. "No, don't worry about it. He knows already."

I smiled and grasped his shoulder. "You're a good man, Steve. One of the best ever, I'd bet. I'll see you in two days."

"Why?"

I chuckled. "Why do you think? Someone has to help train you guys. Can't leave Agent Carter all alone."

* * *

The dock was completely packed with people. Soldiers and nurses waiting to be shipped off. Tearful partners and siblings waiting to say goodbye to their loved ones. Sons and daughters clinging to their fathers and mothers. Brothers clasping arms. Sisters hugging one another. Parents wishing their children luck. It was an absolute sobfest. It also initially made finding Bucky a challenging task. But, I hadn't been trained for nothing. It was all too easy to scale to the top of a nearby building, find Bucky among the group, and then jump back to the ground before making my way towards him.

Bucky didn't seem very cheerful when I got closer. He barely even managed to muster a smile when he saw me. I knew this was hard for him. His family had already said goodbye to him, and so hadn't made the journey out here to see him off. I knew that wouldn't be easy for him to stomach.

"You're going to be okay, Bucky," I said quietly, making it so he needed to lean closer to hear me over the roar going on around us. "You may have those moments when you think everything is over, but I _promise_ , you'll be okay."

"You can't promise that," he whispered, surprising me by wrapping his arms around me and burying his head in my hair, his whole body trembling.

"Yes, I can," I told him, returning the hug. "I can and I will. Because you have too much to live for. Remember everyone you love. Remember everyone who loves you. Think of the stars in the night, those angels watching over you." I rubbed his back, feeling my heart squeeze painfully in my chest. It was hard saying goodbye to him. He wasn't James, but he was still brilliant, and I supposed, in a way, I still loved this man. "You be careful out there, Sarge. Don't let anyone get the drop on you. And, where you can, pick up a sniper rifle. It'll keep you out of the action as much as possible."

Bucky nodded against my neck, drawing in a deep, shaky breath as a whistle was blown somewhere nearby, telling the soldiers the boat would be leaving in ten minutes. Bucky drew back, his eyes bone dry, but he looked vaguely sick. He smiled weakly at me. "I'm gonna miss you, Evie."

I smiled, deciding not to chastise him on the use of that name. "I'm gonna miss you too, Buck." I hesitated, before pulling the flower hairpin from my hair, letting the brown waves loose around my face. I pressed the pin in his hand. "I know it's not much, but-"

"It's everything," he said, and the raw emotion in his voice made me ache for a time when I could have let myself fall oh-so-completely in love with this man. He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of my had. "Thank you, Evie. For everything." He smiled sadly, before turning away.

" _Ya lyublyu tebya, Yakov_ ," I said after him, not expecting him to hear.

He froze and turned around, his expression inquisitive. "I don't know what that means," he said simply.

I smiled. "You weren't supposed to, Buck. Now go. Before the boat leaves without you."

Bucky's face stiffened, but he nodded and walked away, his back straight and his stance strong. Anyone who didn't know him like I did would think he was confident. But I saw the tension in his muscles, the fear in his eyes that he tried so hard to hide. I saw it all. And I wished he didn't have to go through all this. But he did, and I couldn't change that.

All I could do was stand at the docks and wave back at him as he waved, a forced expression of happiness on both our faces. When Bucky finally disappeared from sight, I turned away from the rest of the crowd, head bowed low, and silently wept for my friend and all the pain he was going to have to face in the coming months.


	15. 15 - Personal Training

**A/N: A brief skip into 2014 in this one. Otherwise, it's mainly just Steve, Daphne and Peggy. Hope you like it, and please leave a comment!**

 **Big thanks to: SimplyMonkey, Badwolf432 and Aly-Reed101 for following/favouriting.**

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 **angelAnabiel: It's alright, Bucky will be back before too long. I'm glad you liked it, because it was meant to be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster.**

* * *

 **15 - Personal Training**

 **~ 2014 ~**

James couldn't help but pace as Steve took his sweet time reading through the translated version of the first letter from Daphne that he'd written out.

He didn't want to give up the rest. They were for him, and him alone. They were private, and he had every intention of keeping it that way.

Steve finally put down the letter and let out a long breath. "So you were right," he concluded dully.

James nodded. "It would certainly appear that way."

"What do you plan on doing next?"

James hesitated, before saying, "I looked up her friend on the internet. Agatha."

"The nurse?"

James nodded. "She's still alive," James said. "Living in a care home in Vancouver. I... I have to see her, Steve. Maybe she'll know something about what happened to Daphne after the war."

Steve's brows pinched together. "I know you want to find her again, Buck, but don't you think you ought to slow down a bit?"

James shook his head vehemently. "I can't do that, Steve. Because I think Daphne wants me to find her, rather than the other way round. Else she'd already be here, right? And every second I delay is another second longer for her. She's had to survive 77 years alone, Steve. I want her to wait as little time as possible from here on out."

"Bucky," Steve said lowly, and dread settled into James' stomach. He knew what his friend was going to say. "Daphne may not have survived that long. Have you read any more of her file?"

James nodded slightly. "It only goes up to '53 in any real detail," he said slowly. "But there are small bits. A small paragraph here and there about different years, but sometimes they're decades apart. It's like... I don't know. But it worries me. Why would there be such big gaps in time?"

"Maybe Hydra got their hands on her again."

James shook his head. "All the details about her time in Hydra are there - it was a Hydra file in the first place. They'd be there still if she'd been captured again."

Steve let out a long breath. "I don't know, Buck. I really don't."

Nodding, James said, "Which is why I want to go and see Agatha."

* * *

 **~ 1943 ~**

When I arrived back at the camp in New Jersey, it was to a very sweet sound.

"Faster, ladies, come on!" I couldn't help but chuckle as I approached Peggy. "My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul."

I hadn't seen Peggy in months - she'd never left Camp Lehigh, and so when I was sent to Europe, and then to Camp McCoy, I left one of my closest friends behind. I'd missed her, and it was good to see her again.

"Nice to see you breaking in the newbies, Peg," I said by way of a greeting.

Peggy turned and smiled at me. "I learned from the best," she said with a sly smirk. "Nice of you to show up."

I shrugged. "I had some business to attend to. You know, fighting in a war. Training the new recruits. Same old, same old."

"I feel like I should be concerned that such things are considered to be your normal life."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I wonder about that myself sometimes. You just kind of get used to it after a while."

Peggy stared at me for a few seconds before turning back to the men. "Up! Jumping Jacks, now!" The men slowly got to their feet. "Come on, girls!"

I watched Steve with a slight frown as he struggled to keep up with all the work. I worried he was pushing himself too hard, but at the same time, I was impressed that he refused to give up, even when his little body was screaming at him (as I was sure it would be by this point).

My eyes darted to the ground when a small, metal item rolled across it, followed by the sharp shout of, "Grenade!" The men scuttled away, hiding behind trucks and other things. All except Steve, who rushed towards the grenade and threw himself on it.

"Get back!" he shouted, curling into a ball and screwing up his face as he prepared himself for the blast I knew would never come.

"It's a dummy grenade!" one of the men called, and slowly Steve's eyes opened and he uncurled himself.

He looked up at Erskine, who was stood with Colonel Phillips by one of the trucks. "Is this a test?" he asked in confusion. Erskine sent him a tiny flicker of a smile, before rolling his eyes at something the Colonel said. Steve turned his curious expression towards Peggy and I, and while my friend smiled at him, I winked, silently telling him he'd done well. I could see that his chest puffed up with pride, but I pretended not to notice.

"He's insane," Peggy murmured, staring blatantly at Steve, who, amazingly, was suddenly oblivious to her gaze.

I chuckled. "No," I corrected, "he's brave. He took a risk that no one else was willing to take." I couldn't help but chuckle. "I think Steve Rogers was always meant for a life like this - bravery is stamped into his DNA."

"You have a very high opinion of him," Peggy noted.

I chuckled. "It's a bit difficult not to - a friend of mine has been singing praises about him left, right and centre ever since I met the guy. Besides, from what little time I've spent with him, I know that not a word of that was a lie. Steve really is just... something else."

Peggy smiled weakly. "Yes, he certainly is." And her eyes were on him again as the others finally managed to reform their line.

I grinned at my friend. "Just don't fall too hard, Agent. Professional relationships, and all that."

Peggy's wide eyes met mine. "What do you...?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, come on, Peg, I'm not blind. You're interested in him."

Peggy suddenly looked sheepish. "He's just so... different," she admitted quietly. "I've never met anyone else like him."

"And you never will again, I can promise you that," I said with a smile, which fell quickly. "Just remember where we are, Peggy," I said sternly. "This is a war. As much as I hate to say it, he could get killed at any time. You can either let what you feel grow, and embrace what time you may or may not have with him, or you push past it so - if he does die out there - it doesn't hurt quite so much."

Peggy nodded idly, before asking, "What would you do?"

I smiled. "I'd let the feeling grow. It hurts when you have to part from the one you love, but you'll always have a whole collection of the best memories. That's something you wouldn't have if you decided to ignore it."

"But you wouldn't have the pain," she muttered, eyeing Steve again.

Smiling sadly, I nodded. "That's right. But sometimes the pain is worth it."

"Are you speaking from experience?" Peggy suddenly asked, eyes curious.

I lowered my head, before letting out a long breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." I met her eyes again. "I haven't seen my partner in six years, Peggy. And it does hurt. But the memories I do have keep me going. And I cherish them." I placed a hand on her shoulder. "I can only tell you what I would do in your situation. Don't feel obliged to follow my advice if you don't want to."

Peggy nodded slowly. "I... I'll think about it."

I smiled. "That's all I can ever ask."

* * *

I placed my hand over Steve's mouth and shook him awake. His sharp intake of breath upon waking had me quickly shushing him.

He blinked blearily up at me. "Evelyn? What are you doing here?"

"Come with me," I said. "You'll only need your boots for this." I then left the tent, walking silently past snoring soldiers in various sleeping positions (some of which were so ridiculous it was a struggle not to laugh at them). I only had to wait around half a minute for Steve to appear, still looking like he hadn't properly woken up yet.

"Where are we going?" he asked through a yawn.

I smiled. "There's a convenient little clearing in the woods that I found the first time I was here. So, we're going there."

"Why?" But I didn't answer just yet, leading the way out of the camp boundaries and into the woods. Steve was far more awake now, and far more wary. "Um... Are you sure we're allowed out here?"

"No one can stop you from stepping outside the base, as long as you have the intention of coming back," I said mildly. "Trust me, I'd know."

It was a short walk to the meadow, only four or five minutes or so, and Steve seemed to stumble in his steps slightly when he saw it. The meadow was fairly small, but it was still staggeringly beautiful. The yellowing grass was dotted with a crowd of poppies, scarlet and pink in the white moonlight, waving gaily in the slight breeze that swept through the area.

"What is this place?" Steve asked, finally starting to move again and catch up with me.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. "Nowhere special," I told him. "It's powerful though, right?" Steve nodded absently. I smiled. "I sometimes come here when army life is driving me insane. Or if I'm just having a bad day and remembering... Never mind." I shook my head to clear it. "But we're not here just to admire it today."

"Then why?"

"I want to train you."

"I'm already being trained."

I shook my head. "Not like this. Out there, in the camp, they're training you to be a soldier. That's fine. They need soldiers, and no one ever said otherwise. But I'm going to train you to be a _fighter_."

Steve narrowed his eyes at me. "Why? Because you think I'll need the extra advantage to beat those guys?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, nothing like that."

"Then why? Because normally when someone offers to help out it's because they either pity me, or are doing it to remind me just how small I am."

"I'm not normal," I said seriously, and Steve suddenly chuckled.

"Okay, I can't deny that."

I grinned, then went back to being serious. "I'm teaching you because I'm absolutely sure that it's going to be you who's chosen for Project Rebirth. You'll be stronger, and faster... but none of that will mean much if you don't know how to _use_ those things. So I'm going to show you how."

"And you know this?"

I nodded, face falling. "Yeah, I do. I've lived it, Steve."

Steve eyed me for a few seconds, before letting out a long breath. "Okay," he stated simply. "Let's do this."

* * *

Steve was an extraordinarily attentive student, who took in my advice like a sponge took in water. Except he held onto it. Used it to help him improve. In a single night, I was able to teach him what would normally take around half a week to a week to teach. Every once in a while we'd have a break, and while neither of us said anything, I knew Steve was grateful for the opportunities to catch his breath.

I don't think either of us really expected it, but Steve could actually be very nimble on his feet. He was able to dart around me quite a lot during our short sparring matches (he still couldn't last very long, but he'd lasted longer than many who were twice his size, and I told him that (he was very proud)). By the time the sun started to peek through the trees, Steve was lying flat on his back, arms spread wide, staring up at the sky and breathing heavily.

"Sorry to deprive you of your sleep," I said, offering him a hand up. He took it, and I pulled him to his feet, careful not to use too much force.

Steve shook his head, wiping grass off his clothes. "No, I'm glad we did this." He smiled. "Thank you, Eve."

I nodded. "It's fine. Same time in a few days?"

He frowned. "Why not tonight?"

I shook my head. "You're no good to anyone if you're dead-on-your-feet tired, Steve," I reminded him. "Every three days. That way for every night you lose, you can make up for it with two. Deal?"

Steve nodded. "Deal."

"Good." I slapped him on the shoulder gently, sending him a smile. "Now go get ready for the morning, soldier."

He saluted with a grin that looked suspiciously like Bucky's; lopsided but wide and genuine. "Yes, ma'am." And then he turned and marched through the meadow, back towards the camp. I mentally commended him for his sense of direction - he didn't even hesitate before picking which direction to go in, and the one he picked was the right one. I couldn't help but smile to myself as I watched him disappear. Steve Rogers didn't even know how much he was worth, and I think that was what made him such a good man.

"Good on you, mate," I muttered, before following Steve into the treeline.


	16. 16 - A Box Of Memories

**A/N: This is another longer one, which is actually set mostly in 2014 with James. Also, just thought I'd tell you I've officially started college now, and while it shouldn't disrupt my update days too much, it might do, so just thought I'd warn you now. Enjoy!**

 **Big thanks to: keeleym, kelly. corbeil2, dante784, Dizzy101 and DeanCaslover1214 for following/favouriting. Thanks guys :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Lara Barnes: I looked it up and saw that Steve was actually given specialist training, but since I couldn't find out who taught him, I fugred Daphne would make a fairly decent substitute. Hope this was worth the wait!**

 **NESSAANCALIME6913: I think you're right. Besides, if everything was just handed to him, he'd lose respect for the gesture itself. If that makes sense...**

* * *

 **16 - A Box Of Memories**

 **~ 2014 ~**

The woman behind the desk in the reception area eyed James very suspiciously when he walked in, only for those eyes to be blown wide out of proportion when Steve came up beside him.

"H-Hi," she stuttered nervously, before clearing her throat and steeling herself. "How can I help you, gentlemen?"

Steve flashed her his unconscious, winning smile, and said simply, "We'd like to see Agatha, please."

The woman hummed, typing a few things on the computer. "Would that be Agatha Bailey or Agatha Frye?"

"Frye," James said immediately, recalling vaguely in the back of his head that Agatha had been married to one of the Frye twins the last time he saw her.

The woman nodded, clicking the mouse a few times, before looking up and telling them (with a wide smile that was clearly aimed at Steve), "That's room 109."

Both men nodded. "Thank you," Steve said, but James was already moving towards the corridor which a sign on the wall told him led to rooms 100-120.

It wasn't hard to find room 109, but when he did, James couldn't help but hesitate.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Steve asked him gently. "It's okay to turn around and leave."

James shook his head. "No, I'm doing it," he said firmly. "I'm just wondering where to start."

Steve smiled. "Maybe you won't have to. Maybe Agatha will start for you."

James nodded, before lifting his hand and knocking on the door. A surprisingly strong voice called out to them. "Come in." Turning the handle, James pushed the door slowly open and stepped aside to let Steve in first, before shutting the door behind him. When he turned around, a white haired Agatha was ushering Steve over for a hug. Steve, being Steve, complied with an easy and natural grin. "Oh, it's good to see you, Captain," Agatha said with a smile.

"Call me Steve, ma'am, please."

Agatha nodded, that fond smile still in place. Then her eyes fell on James. He saw the recognition in her eyes, but also a strange form of mischief. "I can see what she meant about you, James," she told him with a grin, before he too was ushered into a hug, which was somehow less awkward than he thought it'd be.

"What who meant?" he asked, feeling his heart stutter slightly in his chest.

Agatha frowned, as if confused. "Well, I assume you're here about Eve."

"In a way, yes," James said, gesturing to the seat closest to him and silently inquiring if he could sit down. Agatha nodded, smiling again.

"Of course, you no doubt know her by her other name. Her real name, although I can't for the life of me remember what it is."

"Daphne," he provided with a smile.

"Oh, yes, that's right."

"So... she told you about me?"

Agatha nodded. "Yes, she did. She told me all about you, and her, and Hydra, and all the rest. As far as I can tell, the only thing she decided to omit were the gory details."

James was admittedly rather surprised. "When did she tell you all this?"

"After the diner disaster."

James frowned. "The what?"

"Don't you remember? A few young men broke into the diner I worked in, and Eve... well she stopped them."

James' frown deepened. "No, I don't think I... Wait, did... did she get shot?"

Agatha nodded with a twisted smile. "Right in the stomach. It had healed over completely by the next morning."

"That would be the serum at work," Steve said with a smile, leaning comfortably against a wall.

Agatha scowled at him. "Oh, don't do that, Steve. Take a seat."

"No, that's alright, I-"

"That was an order, Captain," the old woman said sternly, her eyes flashing slightly. Steve chuckled, before doing as asked and sitting on one of the dining chairs. Agatha turned back to James. "So, what can I do to help?"

"I need to know what happened to Daphne after Steve and I... left."

Agatha nodded idly, her eyes becoming slightly glassy as she no doubt searched through what would likely be fairly murky memories by now. "She helped with the formation of a... an agency of some kind, I think."

Steve blinked. "S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Agatha hummed. "Something like that."

Steve frowned. "She isn't listed as one of the founding members."

"Oh, well, I think she wanted to remain as inconspicuous as possible by this point. Something along the lines of feeling like she was drawing too much attention to herself."

"Probably trying to hide from what was left of Hydra," Steve mused aloud, and James found himself nodding along.

"What about the time Eve died?" James urged.

Agatha scoffed. "You really think that woman died? Ha! She staged her own death so she could get away with changing her identity. After that, she became-"

"Coralie Bachelot," James interrupted with a slight smile.

Steve blinked. "How did you know that?" he queried, frowning.

James rolled his eyes. "I read her file," he said simply.

"Well," Agatha said, "she did exactly as she said and disappeared. Still visited me from time to time, though she was very different - straight, red hair the length of her mid-back. It was quite disorientating the first time, I must admit."

"What did she spend her time doing?"

"Nothing much, really," Agatha admitted. "Learned how to drive," James let out a huff of laughter upon hearing that, "got a job in a music store. Started taking guitar lessons - not that she really needed them, of course, since she was already pretty good."

James nodded. "Daphne's been able to play the guitar since she was a teenager, but she was self-taught and liked to play by ear. Couldn't read notes."

"Yes, I think that's what she said at the time," Agatha mused with a small smile. "She kept writing letters, though. In another language. Russian or Greek or some such nonsense. Would never tell me what she put in them."

James exchanged a look with Steve. "Were those letters in with her files?" Steve asked.

James shook his head. "No. Just the ones from the war."

Agatha scoffed again. "Of course they weren't put in a damned file!" she cried, indignant. "No, she didn't want anyone she didn't know or trust getting their hands on them, so she kept them locked up. Put them in a little box with a very complicated locking system. So only a select couple could open it." Here, she sent a pointed look at James, whose heart pounded in his chest again. Maybe there was more she wanted to tell him. Agatha, after thinking for a moment, turned to Steve. "Would you mind going to my dresser and getting the box out of the middle drawer? I think James might want to see it."

Steve did as asked, while James turned back to Agatha. "So what happened? Her file details up to '53, but then suddenly it's like she just... disappeared."

Agatha smiled, nodding. "That's because she did."

James blinked. "How? What happened?"

Humming to herself, the old woman shifted in her seat slightly. "Well, I don't really understand quite _how_ it works, but one day this bright light just appeared out of the sky and sucked her away."

"A light?" James asked sceptically.

"Yes. Multi-coloured. Left a strange pattern on the ground."

"That sounds like the Bifrost," Steve said, reappearing and wordlessly passing the small box to James, who took it gently, half expecting it to fall apart in his hands.

"What's the Bifrost?" James asked, lifting his gaze from the box.

Steve settled back in his seat. "The Bifrost is the thing that allows Thor to travel between this realm and his," he explained. "In Norse mythology it's often called the Rainbow Bridge."

"So Daphne was taken to Thor's realm?"

Steve shrugged. "It's possible. Though I can't think why."

"She came back a few times," Agatha piped up. "Either to add another letter to the box or sometimes just for a quick visit. She never said where she went or why, nor when she'd see me again. The last time I saw her was back in 1999. Her birthday."

James looked back at the box again and began examining it. Gold patterns decorated the outside, along with an image on either end. A sword, and a gun. James couldn't help but chuckle to himself. To most people, they would be meaningless. But to him, they were simply representations of him and Daphne. The box had an eight letter code. He frowned. None of the words he could think of to do with the images in either English or Russian would correctly fill the space. He looked at the box again, and saw a small engraving on the bottom.

 _'Cause and effect.'_

That was it. Nothing else.

His mind whirred through many possibilities, until it finally made the incredibly distant link. The sword. Silverthorn. Also known as the thorn of silver by the Russians. Thorns. Which grew on roses. The _cause_ of thorns. In the same way, the Winter Soldier, sometimes shortened to just winter. An effect of winter. Snow.

He tried turning the dials on the box, but nothing happened. He frowned again, before understanding once more washed through him.

The Russian word for rose was _roza_. Snow, in Russian, was _sneg._

James quickly turned the dials to the correct letters, and the hatch popped open slightly. He opened the lid. Only to find another layer of puzzles. This time, in the form of a riddle, written in Russian.

 _'What has a neck but cannot swallow?'_

This one took significantly less time for him to work out. A guitar. So he once again slid the dials into their correct places. Another hatch opened. Another riddle, this one not even needing a moment of thought to answer, because it was so deeply engrained into his mind that it was there at the fore as soon as he read those words.

 _'Seven letters with a value of 1, 9, 6 and 3.'_

So he wrote in the answer: Kennedy.

The final hatch opened, and facing him was a small pile of letters. The one of the top was dated October 13th, 1945.

He was startled from his thoughts when he heard Agatha chuckling. He looked up at her. She was wearing a crooked smile.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

Agatha shook his head. "I've had that box for almost 70 years and haven't ever been able to even open the first layer - and yes, I have tried on many occasions. You have it in your hands for five minutes and you're already inside.

James shrugged. "It helps if you can speak Russian," he admitted. "Every answer, apart from the last one, was in Russian. And a lot of it is dependent on how well you know how Daphne thinks."

Agatha nodded. "Well, at least it's open. Maybe you'll find a clue as to what happened to her after she disappeared."

James nodded, putting the letters back in the box and securing the three hatches. "Thank you for your help, Agatha," he said.

Agatha nodded, her face suddenly serious. "Make sure you find her, James. In all the time I've known her, she's never once given up on you. Not even when the other you - Bucky - was there. Don't you dare give up on her."

James' face was equally serious as he gave his reply. "Never," he promised. And he wouldn't. He _couldn't_ give up on her. Not ever.

* * *

 **~ 1943 ~**

"You nervous?" I asked, standing next to Doctor Erskine in the large, round room. The machine was primed and ready to turn little Steve Rogers into Captain America. Despite the fact I wasn't a scientist, or an engineer, or even supposed to be here, Erskine had insisted I stay. Something about making sure Steve didn't panic too much, even though I think we both knew Steve would be fine with or without me there.

Still, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to be present during one of the most notable moments in history.

Erskine shook his head. "It will work," he said. "You yourself have promised me that."

I laughed. "Well, I can't go against my own word, can I?"

At that moment, Steve and Peggy walked in, and all eyes turned their way. Peggy gave Steve a reassuring smile, before leading the way down. Erskine and I moved to intercept them.

"Good morning," Erskine greeted, shaking Steve's hand. I blinked when a flash went off right by my face, then immediately turned to glare at the man behind the camera. Erskine waved a hand. "Please, not now," he said, shaking his head. He turned back to Steve. "Are you ready?" Steve's face was grim but determined when he nodded. "Good. Take off your shirt, your tie, and your hat." Steve looked confused, but wordlessly did as asked.

I teasingly went up to Peggy and whispered, "Don't stare too hard."

Peggy whirled around and hit me, eyes flaming. "Will you let that go!?" I grinned and shook my head. A few days ago, Peggy had approached me and told me she would see where this whole thing with Steve went. So I'd been relentlessly teasing her ever since.

My face flattened as I watched Steve climb into that machine. "It's going to work, Peggy," I murmured. "I'd be willing to bet my life on it. And when he comes out... Well, I suppose _that's_ when you should be careful not to stare too hard."

Peggy blinked. "Why?"

"You'll see," I said with a wink, before patting her on the shoulder and walking over to Steve. "How're you feeling, kiddo?" I asked with a grin.

Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm 25," he said with a tone of complaint.

"And I'm 30," I deadpanned. "Deal with it, Steve. You'll always be a kid to me." I winked. "But, seriously, you feeling okay?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah." He frowned. "How much is it gonna hurt?"

"A lot," I told him bluntly. He gave me a frantic look, as if to say _'That doesn't make me feel better!_ '. I rolled my eyes. "I'm just being honest," I said, holding my hands up in mock-surrender. Then my face became serious again. "But, regardless... I know you can do this, Steve."

"Do you?"

I nodded. "Of course. Of all the people in the world, you'd be the one to get through this alive and in one piece."

"Thanks... I think."

I chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "Chin up, Rogers." Then I turned and walked away, moving to stand by the edge of the room so as not to get in anyone's way.

Erskine sent me a quick nod, which I returned, before he picked up a microphone. He tapped the end, causing it to squeal loudly, but at least he successfully caught everyone's attention. "Do you hear me? Is this on?" He then cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, today we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step on the path to peace." He gestured to the scientists to start working, while continuing his explanation. "We will start with a series of microinjections into the subject's major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change. And then, to stimulate growth, the subject will be saturated with Vita rays."

I folded my arms as I watched many different people (including Stark and Erskine) fuss around Steve, who looked remarkably calm for what was about to happen. Especially with the additional knowledge of how much it was going to hurt.

"Serum infusion beginning in five... four... three... two... one." Two metal plates latched onto Steve's arms, and he winced. "Now, Mr. Stark." Stark went over to his controls, and the machine rose up to stand vertically, the walls closing in around Steve. Erskine went up to the machine. "Steven? Can you hear me?"

Steve's wry voice came out muffled. "It's probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?"

Erskine chuckled. "We will proceed," he said with a smile.

Stark activated the machine. I stepped to the edge of the railing, gripping it so hard it started to bend slightly under the pressure as I heard Stark's voice ring in my ears. "That's ten percent. Twenty percent. Thirty. That's forty percent."

"Vital signs are normal."

"Fifty percent. Sixty. Seventy." I winced when Steve started screaming from inside the machine, my grasp on the railing tightening even more, so I was now holding on with my full strength. I knew he was going to be okay. But watching it still wasn't... pleasant, exactly.

"Steven! Steven!"

"Shut it down!"

"Kill the reactor, Mr. Stark!"

"No!" Steve suddenly cried, and everyone froze. "Don't! I can do this!"

Stark turned the dial in his hands again. "Eighty percent. Ninety. That's one hundred percent!"

Sparks suddenly sprung from the cables pinned to the ceiling, and the whole room was powered down, including the machine. The scientist rushed around, working on getting the machine open. Peggy appeared at my side, grabbing my hand and clenching it tightly. I gave a firm squeeze in return, reassuring her everything was going to be fine.

With a dramatic _whoosh_ , the walls of the machine opened, and there was Steve, breathing heavily, all six feet of muscle. "Oh my God," I heard Peggy murmur beside me, before she dazedly wandered forward to greet Steve as he was helped out of the machine. Not that his new, super strong body really needed the help. "How do you feel?" Peggy asked, eyes eagerly scanning every inch of his chest. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself, shaking my head.

Steve hesitated a moment, before simply saying, "Taller."

And then all hell broke loose.


	17. 17 - Benvenuti in Italia

**A/N: Hello my lovelies, I'm back! :) This chapter covers many things, and also quite a lot of time. Shouldn't be too confusing, but let me know if that's not the case.**

 **Big thanks to: RandomFangirl65, ILovetoRead3, lynneniko666 and Amymikaelson for following/favouriting! :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Lara Barnes: Would it upset you to learn that, per the current plan, you don't get to read Daphne's letters until chapter 24? :3**

 **TMNTGirl: Yep, I can claim to be the only one in my family with that title, too. They've given up on asking me why I laugh for no reason anymore.**

 **NESSAANCALIME6913: Glad to hear you're still enjoying it! :D**

* * *

 **17 - Benvenuti in Italia**

My mind fell back into the assassin track-and-kill mindset so quickly I was stunned into complete motionlessness, watching as the man in the grey suit stole a sample of the serum and then fired two bullets into Erskine's chest. The sound of those bullets snapped me out of my funk, and instantly I grabbed the pistol strapped to my leg, aimed, and fired once. The bullet sliced through the man's shoulder, but he still managed to get through the doors.

I holstered my gun and sprinted after him, only to have to duck out of the way when the old woman at the front desk fired her own stream of bullets at the man. Many sprung past me, but thankfully none hit me (though one or two got pretty damn close).

When the shooting stopped, I poked my head out from the side, only to find the woman in a pool of her own blood and the man racing out the door. For a moment, I just wanted to chase him down and rip him apart. But the woman was still alive, and suffering. So instead I knelt beside her.

"End it," she whispered, only to cough, spitting up blood. "Please."

I nodded. "Be at peace, _my friend._ " The last bit was muttered it Russian, before I stood and pulled out my gun again. There was no fear in her gaze - only peace and acceptance as she closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the floor. That single shot was the hardest one I'd ever had to fire, and it filled me with a bitter rage so potent the world suddenly became dim, and my task became so firmly embedded in my mind that it was all I could think about. That's when I raced into the street, Steve following a second later. Steve instantly went after the man, but I instead looked for a building I could climb. It was always easier to sneak up on your target from above.

The man in the grey suit took twists and turns not even I could have anticipated, but then again, I didn't know his destination.

When at last the man climbed into a strange submarine of some kind, I was stood at the edge of a roof, my eyes scanning the machine. Based on the highly advanced technology, I could only guess at it's origins. I jumped down from the roof a second after Steve dove into the water. I walked calmly towards the edge of the water, reaching out and slamming the man on the ground when he was thrown out of the water.

He snarled at me, eyes feral, but I calmly used my foot to hold down his chest, then loaded my gun, hearing the satisfying sound of the bullet clicking into the chamber.

"Eve, don't!" Steve said, pulling himself from the water. He stopped by the man in the suit. "Who are you?" he demanded, as angry as I thought I was ever going to see the good Captain.

"The first of many," the man spat back, shivering from the cold. Steve and I were unaffected, both because of the serums in our blood, and, for me, because of my familiarity with much colder climates. The man sneered. "Cut off one head-"

My shot echoed through the air.

Steve sent me a wide look. "Why did you-?"

"Two more shall take its place," I finished dully, my arm falling limp by my side. "Hydra. Of course."

"Eve," Steve said sternly. "You shouldn't have done that."

"He would have killed himself anyway," I said with a shrug, putting my gun away. "He'll have a cyanide capsule behind his tooth."

"But why did _you_ kill him?" he asked, frowning, as if unable to comprehend the idea of taking another life.

I sighed, holstering my gun again. "Because he's from Hydra," I said simply. And without another word I turned and walked away.

* * *

The next day I was shipped to Italy, mainly because that's where the SSR were moving, but also partially because everyone knew I needed to get away from America for a while.

What the rest didn't know, was that Italy was probably the only place in the world _worse_ than America. Because that's where the remainder of 107th would go after most were captured or killed by Hydra. And because I knew Bucky would be among those captured. It was the point at which his life started to derail. I'd have no choice but to witness it all, and do nothing to change it.

Phillips didn't let me wallow, though. He put me back into my old boots, training the guys already in the area whenever I had a free moment. I would go to sleep at night, and every night I would be haunted by images of Bucky being experimented on. Of him being in pain. And, worst of them all, of him falling. And each morning I would wake to find myself pinning a soldier to the floor, my hand pressed firmly against his throat. So far, it had been a different man each time. But this camp only had so many men, and it wasn't long before either I wouldn't get woken, or someone would have to go a second or third round.

This happened for a straight seven months. The same routine every day. Get up. Eat. Train some guys. Eat again. Train more guys. Eat again. Do some shooting. Sleep (barely). And repeat.

Seven months of little to no sleep every single day was enough to make even a supersoldier like myself start to fail. The additional knowledge of the tortures Bucky was being put through - probably at that very moment - made the waking hours arguably as bad as the night hours. It was a constant loop of internal hell.

After that, Steve arrived. The 107th had taken refuge in the camp about a week ago, but there were still men entering and leaving the makeshift hospital. I knew that, with the arrival of the esteemed Captain America, it wouldn't be long before he would leave to go rescue Bucky and the others. And, once again, I'd be forced to stay behind and wait. I told myself that I didn't chase after Bucky because he needed to have these experiments performed on him in order to survive his fall, but, while true, I couldn't say for sure it was the main reason. Because I still absolutely refused to go anywhere near Hydra. Not even for Bucky. In truth, I was terrified of what they'd make me do if they got their hands on me.

I was in the Colonel's tent when Steve entered, staring at the map of Hydra bases in front of me.

"Colonel Phillips," he said firmly.

"Well, if it isn't the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan," the Colonel said mockingly, blatantly ignoring the scathing glare I sent his way. "What is your plan today?"

"I need the casualty list from Azzano."

"You don't get to give me orders, son."

Steve frowned. "I just need one name: Sergeant James Barnes, from the 107th."

Phillips pointed at Peggy. "You and I are going to have a conversation later that you won't enjoy," he said fiercely.

"Please, sir, I just want to know if he's alive."

"Sergeant Barnes was captured behind enemy lines," I recited tonelessly. Steve looked at me, his expression suddenly broken. "I'm sorry, Steve."

Steve's eyes hardened. "What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" he inquired to Phillips.

"Yes, it's called winning a war."

"But, if you know where they are, why not at least send-"

"They're thirty miles behind the lines," Phillips cut in sharply. "Through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save. But I don't expect you to understand that because you're just a chorus girl."

" _He's a better leader than you'll ever be,_ " I snarled in Russian, my eyes flashing.

Phillips gave me a stony look. "That language is sprouting from your lips more and more as the days go by. I'm beginning to wonder whether you're really up for all this."

Steve frowned at me. "What does _that_ mean?"

"Nothing, I'm-"

"Sergeant Major Moore has been keeping most of the camp up almost every night for the past seven months," Phillips said.

"Nightmares," Peggy clarified softly, her eyes pitying. I internally sneered at the expression. Pity was not something I needed right now. "They've gotten worse ever since the 107th got here."

"Would you please take this conversation somewhere else?" the Colonel suddenly piped up. "Besides, don't you have somewhere to be in half an hour, Rogers?"

Steve's eyes fell on the map beside me, his jaw clenching. "Yes, sir. I do." Then he stalked away.

Peggy shot the Colonel a hard look. "If you have something to say, now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself," Phillips said coldly. Peggy narrowed her eyes at him, before following Steve out. A moment later, I did the same.

"What do you plan to do?" I heard Peggy ask. "Walk to Austria?"

"If that's what it takes," came the honest, simple reply.

"Steve," Peggy said softly. "You heard the same thing I did. Your friend is most likely dead."

"It would take more than that to kill Bucky," I said, and Steve nodded in agreement, not even surprised that I'd followed him out. He knew how close Bucky and I had gotten over that half year that I'd been training him.

"Look, Steve-"

"You told me you thought I was meant for more than this," Steve said, gesturing to the costume under his coat. "Did you mean that?"

Peggy's expression froze, before she said firmly, "Every word."

"Then you've gotta let me go." Steve started to dump his stuff into a jeep, but Peggy stopped him with a hand on his elbow.

A coy smile stretched over her lipstick-painted lips. "I can do more than that." She turned to me. "Are you going to come too?" she asked quietly.

Slowly, and not without regret, I shook my head. "No. I can't."

"What?" Steve asked, stunned. "You're not coming?"

"Steve, I-"

"Bucky's supposed to be your friend, Eve!"

"Of course he is!"

"Then why aren't you coming? You of all people would be able to survive this!"

"You think I don't know that?"

"Then _why aren't you coming?_ "

"Because it's Hydra!" I cried, feeling my heartbeat start racing. I really felt awful leaving Steve to do this on his own. But I couldn't... I just... couldn't... Not without James. "Because of what they've done to me in the past. What they might do to me _again_ if I get caught."

Steve blinked. "You were imprisoned by Hydra?"

I nodded, eyes falling to the floor. "How do you think I learned how to fight? They made me into the perfect little monster."

"But Hydra's only just been formed," he said, frowning in confusion.

I snorted. "Is that what you think?" I shook my head. "Just because you've only just started hearing about it, doesn't mean it wasn't already there. There's a reason I joined the SSR in the first place."

"I'm sorry, I... didn't know." Steve looked utterly guilty.

I smiled sadly, placing a hand on his arm. "It's okay, Steve. But, please, you _have_ to know that if it were _anyone_ else who was holding him captive, I would be the first in line to be going after Bucky. Hell, I'd have left a week ago. But everyone has their weaknesses. Hydra is one of mine. I could get past it before, because I had someone else with me. But now, I just... I'm sorry, Steve."

Steve nodded. "I understand. And I'm sorry."

I blinked. "What for?"

"Having to go through that. It must have been pretty bad to have you so shaken up about it."

I smiled wistfully. "It wasn't all bad. I had my partner there, at least. But he's gone now."

Nodding again, Steve placed a hand on my shoulder. "I'll bring Bucky back, Eve. For the both of us."

With a small huff of laughter, I ordered, "Make sure you come back in one piece as well, Cap. The army would fall apart without you."

He rolled his eyes. "I think that's a bit of an exaggeration."

"Maybe now. But one day, it won't be."

"Is that a promise?"

I laughed. "Yeah, Steve. It's a promise."

* * *

The next morning, Peggy and Howard still hadn't returned. I went through my routine as usual, training the recruits, trying to distract myself. But training could only ever do so much.

It was lunch by the time Peggy came to find me, sitting herself next to me on the step where I was eating my stale bread and beef jerky.

"Why would Steve be willing to risk so much?" Peggy asked after a minute of silence.

I huffed out a humourless laugh. "Because he's Steve," I said simply. "If it's the right thing to do, he'll give it a try, no matter what the risks are. Besides, Bucky might as well be his brother. I know if it were the other way around, Bucky would also be storming in there without stopping to think first. That's just the nature of their relationship."

Peggy nodded, smiling slightly. "The more I hear about him, the deeper I fall," she admitted. "But now I'm terrified."

"He's going to survive this, Peg," I told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "He's going to come back, and he's going to be parading a whole group of men numbering in the hundreds. And he's going to be right there at the front." I smiled. "You should get yourself a dress," I said suddenly.

Peggy blinked. "What? Why?"

I chuckled. "Because they're men," I said simply. "One of the first things they'll do after coming back is go down to a pub - or a bar, as it's called to these guys - and buy a few rounds. Imagine Steve's face if you walked in with a _really_ nice dress."

Peggy smiled slightly, a light layer of pink dusting her cheeks. "I think that might be a little bit _too_ far, Eve."

I shrugged. "Love has no rules," I told her simply.

Her eyes widened. "I really don't think what I feel for Steve is _love._ "

I chuckled. "Maybe not yet," I teased gleefully. Then my face flattened. "Make the most of it, remember, Peg? That's what you said you'd do. So stop dancing around him and just be... direct for once. Don't let any of the time you have with him go to waste."

Peggy's sad smile that told me she had heard the unsaid ' _like I did._ '


	18. 18 - The Secret's Out There

**A/N: I have absolutely no reason for loving this chapter as much as I do. Nope. None at all. (P.S. Surprise! Early update!)**

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* * *

 **18 - The Secret's Out There**

Knowing that Bucky and Steve and all the rest were going to come back okay was soothing, in a way, but that didn't stop my nerves from jumping around all over the place while I was forced to wait for them to finally show up. It had been days. Even Peggy was beginning to lose hope.

Our torture finally came to an end when the sound of a commotion sprung up from the other side of the camp. I dumped the gun I'd been cleaning on the ground and jumped to my feet, jogging alongside a few others towards the sound. I stood slightly to the side, barely even noticing Peggy popping up beside me as four hundred or more men marched into the camp. They brought guns and jeeps with them, with Bucky and Steve leading the whole group.

Steve stopped in front of Phillips, who wore a hard-to-read expression as his mind processed what his eyes were seeing. "Some of these men need medical attention," Steve said, an instantly several of the camp's medics and nurses started to rush the injured soldiers into the hospital ward. Steve watched them go, before saying, "I'd like to surrender myself for disciplinary action."

Phillips let out a breath. "That won't be necessary."

Steve smiled slightly. "Yes, sir."

I moved my gaze from Steve to find Bucky worriedly watching as one of the men was carried away on a stretcher. A quick glance told me he was one of the men from a group I'd trained about half a year ago - Aaron Lee. I stepped forward slightly, and the movement seemed to catch Bucky's attention because suddenly I was facing those familiar blue eyes. His face was blank for a moment, as if he couldn't remember who I was, but then his face split into a grin and he more or less tackled me into a hug.

I laughed, wrapping my arms around his torso. "Yeah, it's good to see you too, Buck Sergeant," I said with a grin, unable to stop myself from relishing in the comfortable and familiar warmth that surrounded me while I was in his arms.

Bucky didn't say anything at first, just held on to me as if I was the last piece of thread helping him to hold onto sanity. "Why didn't you tell me you got captured while you were in Europe?" he finally muttered in my ear.

I paused. "How did you learn that?"

Bucky pulled back, his arms falling away from my body, while mine did the same. "Some of the men in there with us... They were in your platoon at the time you got captured."

I blinked. "Oh."

Bucky frowned. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked again.

I shrugged. "I honestly didn't really think it was all that important. I got captured. I got out. End of story."

Shaking his head, Bucky let out a loud sigh. "I don't think you realise how important it was to us," he muttered. "Knowing that _you_ had been captured and were able to escape... It gave everyone hope."

I blinked. "How did knowing that I specifically had been captured give you hope?"

"There were guys from fourteen of your groups there."

I blinked. "I only ever taught fourteen groups," I told him, frowning slightly. "Are you telling me that there were men from all of them? Locked up with you?"

Bucky nodded, smiling slightly. "They started singing," he told me. "The smallest number from a single group was six. The largest was ours - the 107th. There were 27 of us." He gave a slight chuckle. "Freaked the hell out of our guards at first."

"Oh," I said again, my mind reeling. It wasn't as if I didn't already know this - after all, James had told me all this on our first night in Brooklyn way back when - but somehow, hearing it now was different. Meant something else. I plastered a smile on my face. "I'm glad it finally came in handy."

Bucky huffed out a brief laugh of amusement, before wrapping an arm around my shoulder. For once, I didn't shrug it off. Bucky turned to the crowd and suddenly hollered, "Let's hear it for Captain America!" The men cheered all at once, and good old Steve flushed slightly under all the positive attention. Bucky turned back to me. "What kind of stuff did they put in him, exactly?" he inquired, sounding both awed and genuinely curious. "I've never seen a guy run so fast."

I chuckled. "I bet I could beat him."

Bucky blinked. "Are you serious?"

I nodded. "Deadly so. He'd beat me in terms of strength, but I reckon I'm faster than he is."

Bucky suddenly grinned mischievously and called to his friend, "Hey, Steve!"

"Yeah?"

Bucky's grin (somehow) widened. "How do you feel about a little bet?"

* * *

"Are you sure about this?"

"Steve, asking me that question over and over is not magically going to make me less sure," I said with exaggerated patience as Steve and I pulled on our boots. Around two dozen men, at Bucky's insistence, had set up a 500 metre sprint for Steve and I to compete in. Steve didn't seem so certain, but I was pretty confident. I was faster than James, so the chances of me being faster than Steve were pretty good.

He shook his head. "I just don't know why we're doing this."

"Because I made the mistake of telling Bucky I could probably run faster than you," I said with a sigh, pulling my short hair up into a neat little ponytail.

"Okay, but... how?"

I shook my head. "Let's just say you're not the only one who's had a few crazy chemicals put into their blood." I slapped his shoulder. "Now, come on."

Steve and I stepped out of the tent we'd been told to prepare in, and saw a large gathering of men standing on either side of the track, and a couple guys walking along the lines and taking bets.

"They're really taking this seriously," Steve murmured, stunned.

Laughing, I reminded him, "This is likely the most fun they've had in weeks. I'm not surprised they're making the most of it."

Steve nodded. "I suppose so." He paused for a moment, before hesitantly asking, "Do you really think you can beat me?"

I smirked. "Yeah, I reckon so. It'll be close, for sure, but I think I might just have you beat."

Holding out a hand, Steve said coyly, "Well, may the best of us win."

I took his hand and shook it, grinning, only to be surprised when a sudden hush fell over the crowd surrounding us. I huffed in amusement. "I think that's our cue."

"I've _no_ idea where you got that idea," he retorted dryly.

"Ease up on the sarcasm, Cap."

Steve and I lined ourselves up on the track, and I saw that even Phillips had left the refuge of his tent to watch the race. I had noticed that most of the people who'd bet had bet on Steve being the winner. I was by no means upset by this - they'd seen Steve run, and he was _fast_. I would just have to prove them wrong.

"You guys ready?" Bucky asked, loading a single bullet into an old revolver. Steve and I nodded, settling into crouches. Bucky raised the gun and fired.

The two of us leapt forward, Steve's powerful leg muscles giving him a better start, but as I grit my teeth and pumped my legs as hard as I could, the gap between us closed, and then I was pulling ahead. 500 metres really wasn't that far when you were going as fast as we were, but by the time we crossed the makeshift finish line, I was about four feet in front of the Captain. When we stopped, neither of us were breathing all that hard.

I laughed. "I think I won, Captain," I said teasingly.

Steve held up his hands. "I concede." He eyed me for a moment, looking impressed. "You're _very_ fast."

I shrugged. "I'm smaller and lighter than you, and almost as strong. I think that's where the difference lies." I gestured for him to start walking, before falling into step beside him. "Did you see Bucky bet?" I asked with a grin.

"No, but he undoubtedly will have done. Why?"

"Well, because I was wondering who he bet for."

Steve shrugged. "It's anyone's guess, really."

I hummed, then chuckled. "He could get into a lot of trouble with this."

Steve shook his head. "Don't give him a hard time over it, Eve. He's gone through enough."

"I actually think this is exactly the kind of thing he needs," I said. "The last thing anyone will ever wants is the feeling that everyone is suddenly walking on eggshells around them. It's better to just act as if none of it ever happened. He needs a sense of normality."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. "As sure as I'll ever be."

Steve looked unconvinced, but let the breath out of his lungs and nodded. "Perhaps you're right."

I smiled at him and patted his shoulder. "Try not to act too disheartened when we give the guys the news," I said with a grin, sensing his desire for a subject change.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Hey, I conceded. I'm not offended."

"Ah, you _say_ you're not, but-"

"Moore!"

I scowled internally and turned to face Colonel Phillips. He and I hadn't been on any good terms since he refused to let Steve go after Bucky and the others (not that it stopped him, but that was beside the point).

"Yes, sir?" I asked curtly.

Phillips sighed. "I need to talk to you. Now."

I nodded. "Fine."

And after giving Steve a look that quite clearly expressed my displeasure at the situation, I followed the Colonel away from the men, who promptly surrounded Steve, asking (demanding) to know who won. I was surprised when I realised the Colonel was not, in fact, leading me towards his tent, but rather towards the makeshift hospital. I reigned in my confusion, knowing Phillips would tell me what he wanted to in his own time.

Phillips ducked into the healing tent first and I followed a second later. When my eyes adjusted to the sudden dimness, Phillips was picking up a sheet of paper from the top of the pile in front of him. He handed it over to me.

I glanced down at the paper, reading meaningless words and explanations I didn't understand, until I found one vaguely comprehensible piece of information.

 _Subject M /cross/ Subject B: Positive. Match confirmed._

"What is this?" I asked, frowning.

"Do you remember the day you and I met, Miss Moore?"

I nodded. "Of course. Why?"

"Do you remember the news I told you?"

"About my miscarriage?"

Phillips nodded, sighing again. "Yes. Procedure dictates that DNA samples be taken of all soldiers in the force for analysis and recording. We did the same thing with your unborn child to try to identify the father. No such luck."

"But...?"

"There's been a change in the situation. We've found two DNA sources that, when crossed, matched that of your child."

I blinked. "Do you mean to tell me that you actually _know_ who the child's father was?"

"Are you saying you don't?"

I shook my head. "I didn't even know I was pregnant until you told me," I admitted.

Phillips nodded, as if confirming something in his head. "The father of your child was Sergeant Barnes, Miss Moore."

And just like that, my whole world froze. Thoughts started running rampant in my head. I'd deduced at the time that my pregnancy was a result of whatever experimentation Hydra had performed on me. Another option was simply that one of the Hydra men had forced themselves on me while I was unconscious. But it never crossed my mind that _James_ would be the father. What would be the point of that?

My mind connected the dots a second later. Of course; we were both supersoldiers. Extra strong. Extra fast. Increased healing and metabolism. We were perfect soldier material. And they'd want as many of them as they could get. Making the two of us have a child would have a high chance of giving them an enhanced human being without the need for a serum. And, that way, they could train the child from birth to believe in their ideals and follow their orders without question. Without the same threat of rebellion.

The very thought made me sick to the stomach. Even as a teenager, I knew I wanted to have children. But never, _never_ , would I want to have them in this way. In any way that wasn't of my choosing. And the fact that my own child might have been turned against me... Against James... Against the whole goddamn world... It filled me with equal measures of fury and anguish.

I stormed out of the hospital room, screwing the piece of paper into a tight ball in my fist, before throwing it into the nearest fire I could find, which just so happened to be right outside the hospital tent, keeping the area warm.

I heard someone running up to me. "Hey, Evie!"

"Don't follow me, Bucky," I snarled, feeling my limbs shake with the effort it was taking to keep everything bottled up.

"What? Evie, are you-"

"James Barnes, stay the _fuck_ away from me!" I snarled, whirling on him, seeing but not really taking in the expression of pained confusion and hurt on his face. I then turned away and started running at my full strength. Away from him. Away from the camp. Away from people. I just had to get away.


	19. 19 - Overcoming My Fear

**A/N: General fluff and filler chapter. It's one of the longer ones, and, as usual, I hope you enjoy it!**

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* * *

 **19 - Overcoming My Fear**

"Evelyn!" Peggy cried in exasperation when I threw a red dress at her.

"Hey, if I'm going to wear a dress, I'm gonna make sure you suffer the same," I said with a grin. Despite the fuss I made, I didn't hate the dress I was wearing. In fact, I really quite liked it, and it was nice to dress up and feel like a _woman_ again. Especially after spending nearly the whole day avoiding absolutely everyone like the plague.

My dress was tight-fitting around my hips and the tops of my thighs, but then flared out a little. It was mainly black, with a red neckline and red patterns along the short sleeves. There was also a black bow belt around my waistline. I had even painted my nails for the occasion, before slipping on a pair of black shoes and letting the hair of my wig fall loose around my shoulders.

The dresses weren't easy to come by, but after spending a full twenty minutes arguing with the Colonel, I dragged Peggy into the closest town and all but forced her to find one to her liking. I then gave her a sweet smile and told her it was my treat, at which point she gave me the stoniest of all glares in history. I still didn't think she'd forgiven me for this little stunt, but I also could see she was beginning to see the benefits of it too.

"Remind me again why I'm friends with you," she grumbled, starting to unbutton the jacket of her uniform.

I shrugged. "Sorry, Peg, can't do that, 'cause I've no idea. I'll see you later, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine." Peggy grumbled, though I could tell she wanted _so badly_ to break into a smile.

I nodded. "Good."

After that I left Peggy alone to get changed, heading towards the pub - bar, whatever - where the guys had taken refuge for the night. I slipped in silently, keeping to the shadows so as not to draw too much attention to myself straight away. My eyes scanned my surroundings, taking note of the fact Steve was talking with a few of the guys from the number he rescued (who I knew would soon become members of the Howling Commandos). Bucky was sat at the counter by himself, nursing a glass of what looked like rum, and wearing a particularly glum expression.

I really hoped I wasn't the reason for that. I hadn't meant to snap at him earlier, but I'd been so close to completely losing it, and I didn't want him to be near me when it happened. Thankfully, by the time that moment came, the only things close enough to feel the effects of my surge of rage and anguish were a few trees.

"Looking a bit down in the dumps there, Buck Sergeant."

Bucky's eyes lifted themselves from his glass, only to widen as they swept over me. "Evelyn, you look..." He seemed unable to finish the sentence, which honestly flattered me a little.

"Like a woman?" I asked with a smile, causing him to roll his eyes.

"You always look like a woman," he told me with a meagre smile. "But, seriously - you look beautiful, Evie."

I shoved him gently. "Don't call me that."

Bucky chuckled, but then his face fell. "Are you alright? You seemed pretty upset earlier."

I nodded, feeling guilty again. "Yeah, I was. I'm sorry for being so sharp with you, but I just... needed some time alone."

"I looked for you, you know," he mumbled, staring at his glass. "Lasted about thirty seconds before going after you. But you're good at hiding, I'll give you that."

"You wouldn't have been able to help, Buck," I said with a heavy sigh. "And if you'd have been there, you probably would have ended up getting hurt."

Bucky blinked. "Why?"

I sent him a wry smile. "Next time you have the chance, go up into the forest where I headed earlier today. Take a long look at some of the trees. That should adequately answer your question."

"You beat up a bunch of trees?"

I chuckled, nodding. "Yeah. Figured a few trees would be better of than some of the men here. I was in a very fragile state at that point."

"Why? What happened?"

I shook my head. "It's not important."

"Evie..."

I sighed. "Honestly, Bucky, it's very complicated."

"I'm sure I can keep up."

"I'm sure you can, too, I just... don't want to tell you. I _can't_ tell you. I'm sorry, Bucky."

The Sergeant seemed put off, but then suddenly his face lit up again. "You'll never guess who showed up an hour ago," he said with a grin, before grabbing my hand and tugging me towards one of the far corners of the room. Despite the fact I could have easily pulled back, I allowed myself to be more like the woman I truly was and less like the trainer I forced myself to be; letting the man of my heart take control.

Bucky surprised me by suddenly coming to a stop, turning around, and then placing a hand over my eyes.

"Bucky!" I growled, raising my hand to peel his own away from my face, but then Bucky's other hand was there to catch it.

"You once said that you were taught how to fight without being able to see or hear," he said, and I could sense the smile on his face. "I'm going to be putting that to the test."

"Oh, and are you going to cover my ears too?"

"I would, but unfortunately I only have one pair of hands." Then he started leading me forward again, considerably slower this time. After a few steps I stopped, my ears picking up on a very familiar, feminine voice.

"Agatha," I murmured in surprise.

Bucky let out an exaggerated sigh, then dropped his hands. "You know, sometimes you're no fun at all."

I rolled my eyes. "It's your own fault for not believing me," I said, before letting my eyes drift over to where Agatha's voice was coming from. I blinked a few times when I saw her very comfortably seated in the lap of one Jack Frye. The twin brother was sat on a chair next to them, acting as if this was perfectly normal. "I've missed something here," I muttered, eyes flicking between the two. Agatha had her arms wrapped around Jack's neck, and her legs crossed. She was wearing a cheeky sea-green dress with a low neckline. Jack himself had one arm around Agatha's waist, and the other was resting casually on her leg. A little too high to be friendly. Shaking my head, I walked up to the two, hearing Bucky fall into step behind me. I paused in front of the two, then asked, "So when's the wedding?"

What happened next would forever be implanted in my memory.

Agatha jumped so much she almost fell off of Jack's lap, and when he tried to catch her, their chair began to trip precariously onto two legs. The two simultaneously tried to correct the balance by throwing their weight in the other direction, which meant that Agatha's leg knocked the table, which knocked Edward's elbow, which had him spilling beer all over himself.

There was a moment of silence, promptly followed by Bucky and I bursting into laughter. Agatha was trying to stifle giggles, Jack was grinning like a loon, and Edward was grumbling under his breath as he flicked beer off of himself.

Agatha then stood up and pounced on me. "It's good to see you again, Eve!" She pulled back and beamed.

I chuckled. "So how long has _this_ been going on for?" I asked, gesturing between her and Jack, the latter of whom was now picking up a napkin from the small pile on the table and passing it to his brother (still grinning, mind you), who immediately started trying to dry himself off.

Agatha shrugged. "Almost three years," she said proudly. "And, in answer to your question, the wedding's in four months."

I stared at her. "There's an actual wedding?" I asked, gobsmacked.

Agatha rolled her eyes. "Didn't I just say that?"

"Well, yeah, but when I asked, it was meant as a joke. I had no idea you guys were _actually_ getting married."

Agatha grinned so widely I thought her cheeks might burst. "He proposed just last month. Look!" She thrust out her left hand and I took her ring finger in my own to examine it. On her finger sat a gold band engraved with different flowers, and standing proudly atop that was a single, square diamond. "Isn't it gorgeous?" she preened, admiring the ring herself.

I chuckled. "It's beautiful," I agreed. I pulled her into a hug, which, according to the small squeak that left her lips, surprised her. "Congratulations," I whispered in her ear as Agatha started to return the hug.

"Thank you," she said in return, before pushing me back, her face suddenly losing all of its happiness. "Now, you and I need to talk." And before I could protest, Agatha had grabbed my hand and was leading me out the pub. Bar. Whatever. I turned my head and sent Bucky an apologetic look, but he just looked hopelessly amused, waving jovially at me as I was steered out the door.

We even crossed paths with Peggy along the way, who sent me an odd look. I just shrugged as Agatha pulled me even further from the building. Once we were a decent distance away, and there was no sign of anyone anywhere near us, Agatha stopped.

I folded my arms across my chest. "And... what was the purpose of that, exactly?"

"I told you; we need to talk."

"About what?"

"About what happened earlier today."

My face fell, and I sighed. "Bucky told you, didn't he?"

Agatha nodded. "He was really worried about you, Eve. From the way you looked, and the way you spoke to him, he knew you were really shaken. For a while, he was actually afraid it was something he'd done." I said nothing. Agatha frowned. " _Was_ it something he did?"

I shook my head. "No, not really."

"Then what?"

"Agatha, please, I really don't want to talk about it."

"Is it that bad?"

Sighing, I nodded. "To me, yeah. It's just... painful, I suppose."

"Tell me about it," Agatha pleaded, sandwiching my hand in her own. "Get it off your chest. It might help."

"It won't."

"It might."

I groaned, pulling my hand from hers and using it to rub my face in frustration. Then, I resigned myself to it. Agatha already knew all she needed to about who and what I was. I supposed this was just another part of the same story. "Do you remember I told you that Hydra experimented on James and I shortly before I came here?" I asked her.

Agatha looked surprised at the question, but nodded. "Of course. You lost it, didn't you? The baby?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I did." I sighed. "Well, apparently the army took some DNA samples of both me and the child after I arrived. Something about it being procedure." I tried to collect myself for a moment, feeling that pain trying to choke me again. "They found a match," I finally spat out. "They found a match between myself, Bucky, and the child."

"It was James'," Agatha concluded sadly, and I nodded, trying to blink back the tears gathering around my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Eve," she murmured, pulling me into a hug. I held her tightly, trying not to use too much force, but it was hard. If I squeezed too hard, Agatha never said anything. She just comforted me in silence as I mourned the loss of my child. The way it came to be was not in any way what I wanted, but one thing I'd realised out there in the woods, was that it was still _our child._ And I'd still lost it. Which _hurt_. It was after realising that that I'd snapped. Now, I could feel myself getting close again, but Agatha's constant presence kept me from falling over the edge.

"You know what the worst thing is?" I mumbled.

Agatha clearly hesitated, before asking quietly, "What?"

"It's gonna be another 70 years before I can tell him." I huffed. "Yet another thing Hydra's ripped away from us."

Agatha pushed away. "You know, you keep talking about all Hydra's stolen from you, yet you don't go anywhere near them."

"If they got their hands on me again-"

"They won't," Agatha said firmly. "They won't, because it's you. When they caught you the first time, you had no training, and no way of fighting back. Now you have every reason to fight, and all the skills you could ever need to do it, and you're holding back because of an irrational fear."

I shook my head. "You know what sort of things they did to me, Ags. You really think I can go back against that?"

"You already have," she pointed out. "You were captured by them, and you got out."

"And then I was caught again, and they nearly killed me," I retorted, frowning. "That's not what I'd call an irrational fear."

Agatha let out a frustrated noise. "You're just making excuses now, Evelyn!" She shook her head. "Whatever happened to conquering your fears, hmm? Whatever happened to... to just doing the right thing because you can? Those men in there, the ones that are preparing to risk their lives every single day, are not like you. Only Steve has the supersoldier serum. The rest are just normal. They got captured, just like you, but that's not stopping them from going back out there and facing down the very thing that tortured them for _weeks._ And all the while you, who has faced far worse than this... You are cowering in the shadows."

I stared at Agatha, astonished, the words ringing loudly in my head for a long time after Agatha stopped speaking, breathing heavily, nostrils flared and pupils blown wide. I sighed, closing my eyes. "You're right," I murmured. "Of course you're right." I shook my head. "I can't believe I let this get the better of me for so long. I-"

Agatha placed a hand on my shoulder, stopping me mid-sentence. "Don't worry about everything that's happened. Worry about what you're going to do to change it."

I placed both my hands on Agatha's shoulders. "You're the best friend a girl could have, Ags," I said sincerely, smiling.

Agatha gave me a half grin. "Go get 'em, tiger."

I blinked a few times, then stated blandly, "Never say that again," before grinning, winking, and then marching back towards the pub.

Bar.

Whatever.

Steve and Bucky were sat together at the counter when I walked back in, though the two of them stopped their conversation when they saw me.

"Hey," Bucky greeted with a smile. "What was all that about?"

I shrugged, grinning sheepishly. "Ags was just giving me something of a pep talk. It was quite brutal, but hey, it got the point home."

"Pep talk? For what?" Steve asked.

I braced myself for a second, before saying seriously, "I want to help you take down Hydra."

Steve blinked. "But what about-?"

"I've gotten over it," I said, before frowning. "Well, maybe not. But I've been forced to realise that I can't let something like fear keep me from doing the right thing. Besides, I think it's about time I started repaying my debts, don't you?"

Steve gave me a lopsided grin, while Bucky looked a little confused. "Well, I'll be glad to have you," Steve said. "But you _will_ have to check it over with the other guys."

I glanced at Bucky. He held his hands up. "Don't look at me - I know that nothing I say can get you to change your mind."

"Doesn't mean I don't appreciate your opinion," I told him.

Bucky paused, thoughtful, then nodded. "Fair enough, I suppose. Well, I've got nothing against you joining. Having two super humans on our side can only ever help."

I smiled. "Just promise me you won't make us compete over every little thing."

Bucky laughed. "Sorry, doll. Can't do that."

I froze for a second, hearing that name ring in my head, before mentally shaking myself off. I saluted, then spun on my heel and headed for the other guys in the Howling Commandos.

"How you doing, fellas?" I asked, leaning against the nearest wall.

"How can we help you, miss?"

"I've just come to inform you that Steve has agreed to let me join you out on the hunt."

A few of them blinked. The only one who didn't seem surprised was James Falsworth, who was instead slowly starting to smile to himself. "Say that again," Dugan said slowly, his outrageous (but truly rather impressive) moustache twitching slightly.

I chuckled. "I'm joining you on your raids, gentlemen."

"And Steve's approved this?" Gabe Jones asked, sceptical, looking me over. Admittedly, in my dress, I didn't exactly look very capable of fighting.

Falsworth suddenly started laughing. "You're very good at keeping a straight face, Sergeant Major," he said with a lopsided smirk.

I grinned. "You, sir, are most certainly _not_."

He shrugged. "I have no need to be," he said simply.

"Sergeant Major?" Dugan asked, eyebrows rising.

I gave a lazy salute with just two fingers. "Sergeant Major Evelyn Moore, at your service."

Jim Morita whistled. "Boy, have we heard a hell of a lot about you," he said with a grin.

"Yeah," Jones said with a huff of laughter, "Barnes wouldn't shut up about you when we were on the frontline."

"He wasn't the only one," Falsworth grumbled, placing his beer on the table. "Though not all of it was entirely complimentary."

I raised my eyebrows. "It's still a little strange how often people seem to know who I am."

Dugan scoffed. "The whole Allied force probably knows who you are by now," he said. "And I'd be surprised if those Germans don't know you, too."

"Ah, well, I was captured by them once," I pointed out with a grin.

Dugan shrugged. "You're still known as the best damn fighter in the force."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Something tells me Captain 4th of July might steal that title from me." The guys looked blankly at me. I rolled my eyes. "Steve. His birthday is July 4th."

"You're joking," Falsworth said with a grin. I shook my head. "God, that man could not be any more American, could he?"

"At least he doesn't wear the suit 24/7," I reminded him. I pushed away from the wall. "Well, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have people to harass."

"Pleasure to meet you, Sergeant Major," Dugan said, raising his mug. "And, for what it's worth, welcome aboard."

I grinned. "Cheers, Dugan. Though you should know I would have come with or without approval, no matter what Steve says. I owe Hydra more than a little kick up the backside."

I walked away hearing the guys' chuckles. I realised, as I waved goodbye to Bucky and Steve, that I hadn't felt this determined and satisfied in months. Years, even. I could never thank Agatha enough for what she helped me to do.


	20. 20 - Now You Know What I Am

**A/N: Good morning, everyone! There is a lot of Daphne/Bucky fluff in this one, which I unashamedly love. So, enjoy! :)**

 **Big thanks to: Smile. Smile. Twitch, Cherokeefox20 and puppylover8392 for favouriting/following. Cheers, guys :3**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **NESSAANCALIME6913: Absolutely. I am a firm believer in that.**

 **Lara Barnes: I admit, it's a lot of fun with the Bucky/Daphne stuff. It's a bit different to when she's with James, which is a lot of fun to write. Glad to hear you still love it. :)**

 **Eryniel Alasse: Aww, thanks. Glad to hear it :P**

 **angelAnabiel: I guess you'll have to find out ;)**

* * *

 **20 - Now You Know What I Am**

We headed out for our first base raid two days after Phillips dropped the bomb on me about my baby, though only after many meetings over what the plan was to be. For once, the esteemed Colonel stayed out of it, trusting the eight of us to come up with something good.

The first Hydra base's location was not known precisely, and we had an area of around fifty square miles to search. Looking at the map, my own, intimate knowledge of how Hydra worked meant I could cross of a few places from the list. Most of the areas we'd be searching through were either forestland or empty farmland.

We'd been hiking through this particular forest for around an hour. The group was spread out over about a hundred metres to cover more ground, and also so everyone could be linked in some way. On my left was Jacques Dernier, and on my right was Steve.

I came to sudden stop, noticing the rest of the guys do the same one by one. I looked around me, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. My grip on my pistols tightened, before a slight shift in the branches of a tree to my left caused me to lift my gun and fire a single bullet. There was a grunt of pain, before a man tumbled out of the tree.

I ran towards him, holstering my gun, while the other guys raced to meet me. Grabbing the guy's head, I forced his jaws open and then shoved my hand in his mouth, pulling it out a moment later, along with a little capsule which had been stuck to the back of one of his teeth.

"Cyanide capsule," Steve said with a slightly knowing grin, and I glanced over my shoulder to wink at him, before crushing the capsule between my fingers.

I turned back to the man. "Where is it?" I demanded.

The man spat at me. " _You are all fools,_ " he growled in German.

I bared my teeth at him. " _You are the fools if you think you can escape,_ " I said in return, and the surprise in his eyes told me he hadn't known I spoke his native tongue. " _Where is your base?_ "

The man spat on the floor. " _I will never tell you._ " I looked over his outfit, noticing the thin material. Not exactly ideal for a shaded area.

I smiled at him. " _That's fine. You don't have to._ " I straightened up, drew my gun, and shot the guy in the forehead.

"Any luck?"

"It's not in a forest," I told Steve, putting away the smoking weapon again and ignoring the looks on the faces of a few of the men around me. "His clothing is too thin for it to be in an area under constant shade. It'll be one of the farming areas I pointed out earlier."

Steve nodded. "Fine." He looked around him. "We should find somewhere to rest for the night - it'll be dark soon."

* * *

We camped out in an old barn that night. After carefully scoping out the ransacked farmhouse next to it (the others thought I was going overboard, but, as I pointed out to them, an abandoned building would be the ideal hiding place for a secret base), the guys laid out their coats and jackets to use as makeshift pillows, and settled in for the night. I, on the other hand, knew what sort of horrors sleep would bring, and so I decided to stay up and keep watch to allow the others the chance to rest.

Two hours later Bucky came and sat beside he without a word, placing his jacket around my shoulders as he did.

"I'm not cold," I murmured with an amused grin.

He shrugged. "Makes me feel better," he said by way of an explanation. I didn't understand, but nodded anyway and kept hold of the jacket, trying to ignore the scent that was so very _James_ as it drifted up my nose, even if it was masked by hints of straw and sweat. "You should be sleeping, Evie."

"I figured that one of us not sleeping at all would be better than all of us sleeping badly," I said simply. "You know what I'm like at night."

"Yeah, but I'm right here. I can calm you down."

I shook my head. "I'm not gonna ruin the night just for a bit of rest. I've gone longer without sleep - I'll be fine."

"How long?"

I chuckled. "That would depend entirely on your definition of sleep," I said. "I was placed in a state of physical lock-down. My body didn't function, just like it doesn't when you're asleep, but it's not a natural sleep."

"Do you count that as sleep?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Then how long?"

I stared at him, before slowly admitting, "Years."

Bucky did a double-take. " _Years?_ " he echoed, frowning.

I nodded. "Yeah. So I think I'll be okay for one night."

Bucky settled into a shocked silence, no doubt mulling through his thoughts. I let him sit and stew, not wanting to divulge any more details just in case doing so would mean he'd make the link between Evelyn and Daphne too early in the future. I was already getting too careless with my words around him, but I couldn't help it. James had always been someone I could trust with anything. I was seeing the same trait in Bucky, so keeping stuff like this from him... It was growing more and more difficult. It went against every instinct I had.

The quiet lasted for several minutes, before Bucky suddenly said, "You know, I used to dream that I'd live in a place like this."

I blinked in surprise. "I'd have thought you to be the city type for your entire life."

Bucky shrugged one shoulder. "Well, sure, I expect it'll be hard to adjust to a life in the country, but it's always held a strange kind of appeal. Being out all alone with my family, having a couple dogs and maybe some horses. Chickens for eggs. A cow for milk. It just seems so peaceful." He smiled at the image he painted in front of us both. "I always pictured myself outside, maybe chopping up some logs for the fire, with my wife sitting on the porch and a babe in her hands, and two kids running around in the grass without a care in the world. None of the danger of city life. None of the pressure. Just... freedom to do whatever we wanted."

I smiled sadly to myself, wondering if that was the life that James still wanted to be able to live. When Bucky described it like that, it truly did sound like a beautiful life to lead. "Three kids, huh?" I asked, smiling.

Bucky chuckled. "Ah, well, that might change, of course. But there were always three when I pictured it."

"Boys or girls?"

Bucky laughed. "Oh, I've no idea. It changed every time. I'd like at least one of each though, I think. If I can."

I couldn't help but sadly note, "You'd be an excellent father, Bucky." And so would James. Though the two were very different, in this, they had something in common. I was glad that such a feat had managed to survive through all the torment under Hydra's hands.

"Thank you." Bucky paused, then hesitantly glanced at me. "What about you? How do you picture yourself in the future?"

I smiled sadly. "I don't, really. I spent far too long thinking my future would always be the same as my past and my present that the future you describe seems like an unachievable dream. If presented with the opportunity, I think I'd like kids one day, but..."

"But what?"

"But... after the first time..."

Bucky's eyes blew wide open. "There was a first time?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I, uh, lost it."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. It was a long time ago."

"When?"

"Back in '37. Colonel Phillips, of all people, was the one to deliver the news. It's actually one of the things that kick-started our... I dunno what to call it, really."

"Relationship?" Bucky offered.

"Yeah, sure, let's go with that." I shrugged. "Either way, it wasn't the nicest way to start it off, but it's not his fault the child died. He just had to be the one to tell me."

Bucky nodded, face understandably solemn. "No offence," he said slowly, "but, by the sounds of things, you've had a really terrible life."

I couldn't help but laugh, though I made a conscious effort to keep it quiet, so the others weren't disturbed. "None taken," I said with a grin. "That's exactly how my life's panned out. Sure, it's had its highlights, but the majority of it was... pretty awful."

"But you're free now, right? You're away from the chains that held you back. So you can do whatever you like?"

I hummed. "I suppose so, yes."

"So, when the war is over, what are you going to do?"

I paused for a minute. "I... don't know. Fighting is just about the only thing I can do. And, being a woman, I can't exactly make a career out of that."

"No hobbies?"

"Never really have any time for them," I admitted. "I used to, but that was before everything just went downhill." I shrugged. "It's fine - I made peace with the fact I'm never going to fit in anywhere a long time ago."

Bucky nudged me with his elbow and said scoldingly, "Don't say that. You fit in fine. Nearly everyone you get to know thinks you're great."

"You know considerably less than half the people I've met," I pointed out dryly. "More often than I'd like, the guys I'm training hate me just because I'm a woman who can throw them on their asses."

"Ah," Bucky said with a grin. "Well, you've got to admit, it's not the best way to sell yourself."

I chuckled. "Never said it was. But the ones who accept that are the ones I really get along with. So it has its ups and downs." I looked up at the night sky, admiring the bright face of the white moon, before turning back to Bucky. "Get some sleep, Sergeant. I'll make sure no one gets the drop on us."

Bucky chuckled. "Oh, I've no doubt." I moved to return his jacket to him, but he just shook his head. "No. Keep it."

"Weren't you using it to sleep on, though?"

Bucky snorted. "This is a war, Evie. I've slept on worse than an old pile of straw. I'll be fine."

Slowly, I nodded. "Alright. Goodnight, Bucky."

"Goodnight, Evie."

"Don't call me that."

Bucky's low chuckle resonated all the way through the barn, and I couldn't help but smile. I listened closely for the distinctive sound of rustling straw, and when it came, I knew Bucky had returned to his spot and had laid down to rest.

* * *

The night passed slowly after that, and I could tell it was almost dawn when suddenly the landscape changed ever so slightly. I stood from my spot (Bucky's jacket falling from my shoulders onto the barn floor), narrowing my eyes toward the movement I was almost certain I'd seen, waiting for it again. When it came, I quickly spun around, moving between the Howling Commandos and carefully picking up a few of their weapons in order to increase my stock of guns, bullets and explosives. I then wordlessly started walking towards the source of movement.

The tall grass and early hour helped create excellent cover, so I was easily able to sneak up on what turned out to be a man. He was standing at the crest of a hill, on the other side of which was a large crater. And sat perfectly in the centre was a series of square buildings. A series of buildings that, remarkably, disturbingly, looked _familiar._

Knowing Hydra was close by was one thing. But seeing the Hydra base in front of my eyes did crazy things to my head. The hatred and desire for revenge ripped through me, burning even hotter now I knew it was because of _them_ that James and I had lost our first child. I tied the guns I'd picked up to my back, and instead drew two knives from my belt. This would be all the more satisfying when I could watch the life drain from their eyes.

The scout was taken down first with a clean swipe across the neck. After that I ran towards the base, not even trying to be subtle, but somehow only drawing the attention of four men. They were dispatched just as easily. There seemed to be some kind of trigger a certain distance from the first building, because as I neared the base a loud alarm suddenly sounded, and then there were dozens of men - all carrying guns - running towards me. As much as I didn't want to, I put my knives away, knowing they'd be practically useless against so many men with guns in such an open space. Instead, I pulled the two machine guns off my back and started firing at the men, barely even giving myself the time to see if my bullets hit home before spinning towards the next man.

By this point they were starting to return fire, and every now and then I had to duck for cover. I cursed when one of my guns clicked when I pulled the trigger, before throwing it to the side. Empty. I darted out from my hiding spot around the corner of a building, sending a wave of bullets towards the men in front of me. All but three went down, but three more short bursts later I was alone.

I looked myself over, making a mental note of the two gashes on my legs and the rather minor shrapnel wounds on my arm, before I started scanning the bodies in front of me. I picked up two guns which were identical, before grabbing two more clips of ammo for said guns. As I headed towards one of the doors into the base, I reloaded both guns, before putting them on my back.

I drew my knives again, before slipping inside the base. I used the shadows to my advantage, my silent footsteps allowing me to get right behind all the guards in the building before covering their mouths with my hand and then slitting their throats. It wasn't long before I was stood in front of what was clearly the main control room. The door had a piece of glass in the middle, allowing me to watch as scientists and soldiers alike bustled around the room, frantically trying to hide things. I stayed outside for a long time, noting all their favourite hiding spaces - beneath four separate floorboards, behind a loose brick in the far wall. And, my personal favourite, sliding them under a small gap at the bottom of a particular wall.

After waiting another few seconds, listening out for any other company, I calmly walked towards the room and opened the door. The men in the room froze solid when they saw me, only to suddenly become confused. Clearly I wasn't what they were expecting. I moved calmly towards the first man, who was stood stock still, but I could tell he wasn't armed underneath his white lab coat. I subtly shoved my knife into his back, up under his ribcage and into his lungs and heart. He wasn't even flat on the floor before I slashed at the next man.

After that, the men started moving, either scrambling for cover (the scientists) or scrambling for their guns. I used the various desks and filing cabinets to shield myself from stray bullets, but it wasn't long before the men got a lucky few shots. Three bullets ripped through my hip, my abdomen, and my right shoulder. Another curse slipped my lips, before I spun around and threw some of my knives at the men who shot me, smirking when they sunk right into their skulls, killing them instantly. That left just the scientists, who were cowering in one corner. Six of them.

I dropped my remaining knife, drew a pistol, and then fired six shots. The walls were painted with their blood, but I didn't care. Ignoring the blood streaming out of the three bullet wounds in my own body, I started collecting the various files I'd seen them stashing away. Seven under the four floorboards. Three behind the loose brick. Two under the wall, which were a lot more difficult to grasp hold of.

With the twelve files in hand, I started walking back through the base, planting a few of the charges I'd pulled from Falsworth as I went. As I exited the base back into the night, I looked up and saw the Howling Commandos standing at the top of the hill. I couldn't see their expressions from here, but it didn't take a genius to know what they'd be. Shocked. Insulted. Disgusted. Ignoring the pang of guilt in my stomach, I started to march towards them, my hands beginning to shake with the effort of keeping hold of the files while my blood leaked from my body.

"Evelyn," Steve said sternly when I joined him, but I interrupted.

"We might want to take a few steps back, gentlemen." Surprisingly, they did as suggested, and barely ten seconds later a series of large explosions ripped the Hydra base apart. While the rest of the group watched the flaming inferno, I turned to Steve, pressed the files into his hands and said, "I may have taken a few hits." Then, as if my body decided to be dramatic, my tired legs failed and I slumped onto the ground.


	21. 21 - The News I Had Been Waiting For

**A/N: Hi, guys! Not much to say about this one except quite a lot happens, and I hope you like the ending ;)**

 **Big thanks to: MidnightShadowJinx and valaria243 for following/favouriting.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Lara Barnes: Haha, yeah, she'd like to hear that ;)**

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 **NESSAANCALIME6913: This is true, though of course Daphne won't tell them that, since she can't without risking them finding out too much about her. Glad to hear you're looking forward to it though.**

 **angelAnabiel: Aww, thanks :) There'll be another Bucky/Daphne moment in this one, you'll be pleased to hear.**

* * *

 **21 - The News I Had Been Waiting For**

"Evie!"

Bucky was by my side in a second, kneeling on the grass, ignoring the fireworks still going off nearby. His expression became pained when he eyed the three severe wounds on my torso. I chuckled quietly. "I'll be okay, Sarge," I told him, patting his shoulder. "I've faced worse."

"You're an idiot," he told me gruffly, gesturing with his head for Morita to join him. Then he pressed two hands to the wounds on my abdomen and my shoulder, while Morita put pressure on my hip.

I let out a groan. "Easy, guys."

"It's your own fault for going in alone," Steve said firmly. "Why didn't you wake us?"

Bucky let out a frustrated noise. "Can we please leave the interrogation for when she's _not_ bleeding out, Steve?" he snapped harshly, glaring up at his best friend.

But I shook my head. "No, Buck, it's okay. I deserve it." I hissed sharply when Morita suddenly started digging through my hip wound with a knife, prying out the bullet that I hadn't realised was still in there. "I went in alone because that was one of the places I was holed up in once." A short cry left my lips when Bucky's grip on my shoulder tightened, sending him a slight glare while he hastily apologised and loosened his grip.

"You should have let us know," Steve stated.

I nodded. "Yeah, I know." I sighed. "I guess it got to me more than I thought."

Steve's stern face finally melted away, becoming concerned. "Are you sure you want to keep doing this? There's no shame in dropping out."

I laughed weakly. "You're not getting rid of me that easy, Cap."

Steve nodded. "Fine. Just make sure this doesn't happen again."

I weakly lifted my arm and saluted. "Yes, sir."

* * *

 **~ 2014 ~**

James could feel Steve's eyes whenever they moved away from the road and landed on his form, but he didn't acknowledge the probing gaze of his friend. He just stared at the closed box sat on his lap.

He had promised himself that he wouldn't open it and read the letters until he was alone. Which meant he'd be spending the entire trip back to New York wondering what could possibly have happened to the woman he loved.

"If you're not going to open it, don't torture yourself by staring at it," Steve finally said, drawing James' eyes up from the box.

He sighed. "I wish it were that easy, Steve. I feel like there's still something I'm missing."

"Maybe you'll find the answer in those letters," suggested Steve.

James pursed his lips. "Maybe." But he wasn't so sure that would be the case. There was something strange about everything. And he still hasn't talked to Agent Silva. He was convinced she was involved, but couldn't understand why she didn't just tell him what he wanted to know. He'd talk to her, he promised himself. After he'd read the letters in the box, he'd seek her out. Perhaps she'd fill that missing link for him.

* * *

 **~ 1944 ~**

I kept my promise over the next few months, never venturing into a Hydra base without the others. Admittedly, I bent the promise once or twice (taking out the perimeter men alone before telling the others), but ultimately I did as asked. Whenever there were cameras nearby, I left entirely. I didn't want the world to think I was part of the Howling Commandos, so the camera crews and everyone back in their homes watching had no idea I was an honorary member. The others didn't understand why I kept it like that, but thankfully no one really questioned it. Bucky assumed it was simply because I hated being followed around by the things, and I wasn't about to correct him (although he wasn't wrong about that - I just didn't tell him the real reason was because I'd be drawing too much attention to myself, both in the war and the future).

The whole group managed to scrounge a day off from Phillips to attend Agatha and Jack's wedding. It was fairly quiet, with only the bride and groom's closest friends attending (no family except Edward, since we were so far from home). It was nice to spend the day away from the battlefield, and although weddings weren't really my thing, I still had a good time. Not to mention I was thrilled my best friend had found the love of her life.

Having just come back from our latest raid (a complete success, as usual), the whole group was sat in a pub having a drink. Or seven. Or, in Dugan's case, twelve. The man was absolutely hammered, which made for a hilarious sight as he tried many times to stand up. Each time, he either collapsed straight back into his chair, or stumbled after a step or two and face planted the floor. And of course, none of the rest of us bothered to help him back up, choosing instead to just watch with utter amusement as he stumbled back to his feet. At which point the cycle began all over again.

"Hey, Eve," Falsworth suddenly called over to me, "how about a song for us?"

"I don't sing," I deadpanned.

"That's a lie," Bucky said with a grin. "You don't sing _unless_ you've got a guitar."

I blinked at him. "When did I tell you this?"

He shrugged. "After one of your various nightmares. Don't remember which one."

"At which point I probably mentioned I haven't played the guitar in years."

"Ah, come on, it can't be that hard to remember," Falsworth said with a grin.

"Clearly you've never played an instrument before," I grumbled.

"Never even touched one," he said, toasting to me with his pint glass of beer.

Steve leaned on the table and grinned at me. "So, how about we make a deal?" he suggested, a teasing glint in his bright eyes. "The next time we see a guitar, and we get permission to use it, you have to sing and play for us."

"We'll even buy you a drink," Dugan added.

I groaned, but then nodded. "Fine. But only once, you hear? I don't want to have to continually make a fool out of myself."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Eve," Steve said kindly.

"Gentlemen." We all turned to see Colonel Phillips standing in the doorway with Peggy by his side. He nodded to me. "Lady." I snorted, but appreciated the acknowledgement nonetheless.

"Sir," a few of the guys said, while the rest just nodded to him. I noticed that Dugan was now suspiciously sober, which made me wonder whether he was actually anywhere near as drunk as he'd made himself out to be.

"As you've no doubt come to expect by now, we have some more news for you." Phillips stepped into the pub, but Peggy stayed by the door, looking remarkably sombre. Even more so than usual when Phillips was giving his news. "We've located Arnim Zola, Schmidt's lead scientist."

Steve nodded. "He's the one making all Hydra's weapons," he stated calmly. I, on the other hand, had completely frozen over. It couldn't be... Not now... Surely not now...

"That is correct. Some of my best Agents have tracked Dr Zola to a base not far from here. He seems to be in a hurry to leave - intelligence tells us he's preparing to get on a train." My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. My eyes fell closed and I grimaced, my hands gripping the table hard enough for the wood to groan. I had no idea that this day was so close. No idea that I'd be forced to go through with it. Oh Gods... I couldn't do this. I couldn't do this.

Vaguely, I heard Steve quietly murmur, "Bucky, can you go and get Nurse Frye?"

My boys knew what to do in situations like this. Whether I was out of my mind with rage, or on the verge of a panic attack, or bawling my eyes out, Agatha was the only one who could ever get me to calm down, because she was the only one I could really _talk_ to. Ever since the day the Colonel told me about James being the father of my unborn child, these emotional outbursts had been coming fairly regularly. I kept trying to convince myself I was okay, that I'd get through it, but sometimes I doubted that. I knew I wasn't the only one, though no one ever said anything outright. The truth was, that day, the hatred that had burned through me terrified me to the core. Because it was like I was back in Hydra's hands, and they were manipulating me into feeling that rage all over again. And that's when the panic attacks started.

It could have been a minute or an hour before Agatha came in, but as soon as she did, everyone else left the building. I could be a little... violent... at times like this.

"What's wrong, Eve?" Agatha asked gently, crouching down in front of me and prying my hands from the table, before taking them in her own.

"It's the train, Ags," I said in return, feeling that irritating itch behind the backs of my eyes. I _would not_ cry _._ "Zola's train. When Bucky-"

"I know," Agatha said, squeezing my hands. "You always knew this was going to happen, Evelyn."

"Yes, but not this soon!" I cried, jumping to my feet and starting to pace. "I can't do it, Ags. I thought I could, but I can't. I can't watch him fall, knowing what he's gonna go through on the other end. I... I just _can't._ I'm not strong enough."

"Yes, you are," Agatha said firmly. "There's nothing you're too weak to do."

"You don't know that!" I snarled, stepping towards her, feeling that angered thrum in my veins again. "No one knows what I have the strength to do. Not even me. I tell myself I can do it, and I can't. I tell myself I can't do it, and I can. I don't know myself anymore, Ags! So how the _hell_ can _you_ know me?!"

Agatha started at me for a moment. "I'm going to go and get Bucky," she said suddenly.

My panic sky-rocketed. "No!" I cried, grabbing her arm. "You can't. Please, Agatha. I don't know what will happen if he comes in here again."

Agatha patted my arm sympathetically. "In my not-so-professional opinion, I think, in this situation, he's the only one with a chance of making you see sense."

"But I can't _talk_ to him like I can to you," I said, pleading again. "He doesn't - and can't - know about me."

"He doesn't need to."

"Normally, maybe I'd agree with you, but not now. Not with this."

Agatha's face became stern. "I am sending in Sergeant Barnes, whether you like it or not. He can help you."

I shook my head, feeling like the walls were suddenly pressing in against me. "Please, Agatha. Don't."

"I have to, Eve. This is beyond my ability now."

* * *

Bucky couldn't help but pace as he waited for Evelyn and Agatha to step back out of the bar. Evelyn was just about the most confident and self-assured person he knew, so her sudden changes in emotional state really worried him. He'd noticed when the change happened - the day of the race, when Colonel Phillips called her to talk to him. After that, she'd taken a downward spiral. And no matter how often he asked, Phillips refused to tell him what he'd told her, saying if she wanted him to know, she could tell him herself. Bucky doubted he'd ever wanted to hit a man so much in those moments, but he'd restrained himself.

He was (as usual) the first to notice when Agatha exited the bar. Bucky's fear rose three stories when he noticed she had come out alone.

Agatha walked towards him with a despondent expression. "I don't think I can do anything," she told him quietly. "I think you should go."

Bucky blinked in surprise. "Why me?"

"Because you're always the one who can wake her from her nightmares. I think this is the same, she's just..."

"Living it," Bucky finished gloomily. He sighed through his nose, then nodded. "Alright, I'll see what I can do. But I'm not promising any miracles here."

Agatha smiled weakly. "I don't think a miracle is what she needs. Just someone who loves her."

Bucky's eyes just about popped from his skull. "What are you-?"

"You're much less subtle than you hope to be, Sergeant Barnes," Agatha said with a smile. Then her face fell. "But you do know that she's already been rationed, right?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I do. And it's fine. I've... spoken to her about it. Sort of."

Agatha rolled her eyes. "Sort of, right. Well, get on in there, Sergeant. Unfortunately, that woman's a danger to herself when she's alone and like this."

Bucky nodded again and then hesitantly walked into the bar. At first, he thought Evelyn had disappeared, but then he saw her huddled in the corner, sobbing into her knees. His heart broke at the sight.

Bucky said nothing as he walked over to her, making sure to keep his steps heavy so she'd know he was coming, before sitting down beside her and pulling her into his arms. Evelyn's hands gripped at his shirt and she buried her head into her chest, her tears quickly dampening the material of his shirt.

"What's wrong, Evie?" he murmured. "Please, sweetheart, tell me. I can't help you if I don't know."

Evelyn shook her head, huddling even closer to him. " _Ya lyublyu tebya, Yakov. Ya lyublyu tebya. Ya lyublyu tebya._ _Ya lyublyu tebya tak sil'no_." She sniffled slightly. " _Ya skuchayu po tebe_."

Bucky sighed slightly. "I don't know what you're saying, Evie."

"You're not supposed to," she whispered in return. He noticed her tears had slowed already, and her body didn't tremble as violently.

Bucky chuckled. "Isn't that what you told me the day I shipped off to England?"

"I said the same thing then, as well," Evelyn admitted.

Digging around in his pockets, Bucky pulled out the hairpin that she'd given him that day. "I've still got it, look. Used to take it out every spare chance, and each time I looked at it I would remember what you told me. That there were people who loved me, and needed me. That I loved in return. That _I_ needed." He couldn't help himself, closing his eyes as he slowly breathed in the scent of her hair soap. It tickled his nose with it's sweet fragrance, though he couldn't pinpoint what he was smelling. "Now it's your turn to do the same, Evie. You have people who need you. You're no use to anyone locked in a bar drinking shot after shot."

Evelyn laughed weakly. "Can't get drunk," she muttered. "Too much shit in my blood."

"Watch that language, doll. Someone might get offended."

This time, her laugh was much stronger. "You're one to talk, Sarge. You swear worse than a sailor when you think no one's listening."

Bucky grinned down at her, though she didn't see it. "Okay, guilty as charged." He gently rubbed her arm. "But we need you out there, Evie. Me, and Steve, and Agatha, and Peggy. Heck, even Phillips, though of course he'd sooner die than admit it."

Evelyn nodded, smiling against his chest. "Maybe I should have that inscribed on his grave."

His laughter rumbled deep in his chest, and he could feel Evelyn's do the same. "That's the spirit, Evie." He sucked in a deep breath, making the most of this intimate contact with her, before gently pushing her away. "Are you alright now?"

She smiled sadly and shook her head. "No. But it's under control. So, thank you."

Bucky placed a hand on her cheek. "Any time, Evie. That's a promise."

That sad look came back. She lowered her head, and then, before his eyes, her face changed. Her expression hardened. Her eyes became determined. The vulnerable woman she'd been before vanished from sight, being replaced by the confident one who he had come to know and, yes, maybe love. She met his eyes again, and flashed him a grin. "Whatever you do," she said, eyes shimmering with the remnants of her tears, "don't say a word." And then she leaned forward and slammed her lips down on his.

* * *

 **Okay, so I know I don't normally do author's notes at the end, but a couple people have asked me what Evelyn really looks like. So I've created a phot-manip/digital painting of Evelyn. I'll post the link here as best I can:**

 **ec1aire. deviantart dot com /art/Daphne-Sparrow-Evelyn-Moore-634448067**


	22. 22 - Man With A Plan

**A/N: I'm not sorry. I am very not sorry. :)**

 **Big thanks to: strawberrylily, petra. skoupilovaa, WasTiger, Zyanya-Medici-9622, Alya Kihaku, marie potter riddle and Emerald Anime for following/favouriting. Wow, a nice long list this time. Thanks, guys!**

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* * *

 **22 - Man With A Plan**

The moment his lips touched mine, I knew I was screwed. None of it was innocent, none of it was teasing; instead it was hot, fiery, passionate and demanding. I wanted to pull away before I lost myself, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. In that moment, my senses had been seduced and I could no longer think straight.

"Evelyn," he whispered slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savour them. I smiled sadly, my heart fluttering at his voice as I clasped my hands on either side of his face. Never before had that name ever felt or sounded so wonderful. I leaned in for another kiss, damning myself and the consequences of my poor choices.

Because the truth was... Bucky's kiss stole the words I didn't need to say. In that silence all of our secrets were laid bare, all of our passions and the spark of love that existed between us. In that moment, in his love, I was strong. One kiss and I had the courage to do what had to be done.

I could admit to myself that while Evelyn was wholly and completely Bucky's, Daphne would always belong to James. And I was okay with that. And I hoped, in the end, James would come to understand it too.

After a minute more, Bucky pulled away, letting out a sigh that was somehow both utterly content and agonisingly pained. I hated that I knew the reason for that.

"Just for today," he murmured, his breath brushing over my face with all the softness of a feather, "I want to pretend there's no war. There's nothing else out there but you and me. Can you do that for me, Evie? Can you pretend just for today that there is no other man waiting for you?"

I drew back in surprise. "You make it sound like today is going to be the last time we see each other." Did he know? Had Agatha broken her promise of silence and told him everything?

Bucky sighed, lowering his eyes. "Colonel Phillips has given the order for you to stay here, under Agatha's recommendation," he told me. "You won't be coming with us when we go after Zola."

I blinked. "Why?"

Bucky gave me a look that told me quite clearly not to be stupid. "Your emotional state is all over the place, Evie. One minute you're having the time of your life, and the next, you're trying to push yourself as far away from everyone as you can. You need some time away from all the fighting, away from the war. Give yourself time to get your head straight."

I sighed, knowing (but loathing to admit) that he was right. Phillips was right. Agatha was right. Everyone was right. I needed the time to come to terms with what was going to happen. I thought I had. But I guess I'd just made a habit out of lying to myself. After thinking for a moment, I nodded. "Okay," I said.

Bucky blinked. "Okay... what?"

"Okay, I'll spend the day pretending we're the only people in the world."

His eyes lit up, even though I could sense his sadness that a day was all I could offer. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I think we both deserve a day off after everything we've been through."

It was barely a second before Bucky had dragged me to my feet and was pulling me out into the open by the hand. And for once, I just went with it. If Bucky was going to fall tomorrow, I wanted to make sure his last day on Earth was the best I could make it.

* * *

When the next morning rolled around, I woke up feeling dread in the pit of my stomach. Still, I managed to push it back. The day before had been amazing, and it had been as helpful for me as it had been for Bucky. I knew that everything he was going to face in the future would scare the crap out of him, but I also knew he'd get through it. He'd be okay. So I focused on making the man he was at that moment the happiest he could be when he went down.

I was there to see the guys off, of course.

Bucky was the last to go to the truck, lingering by me for a moment. Throwing aside all shame, I grabbed him by his unzipped jacket and tugged him down for one final kiss before he left. His initial surprise made his lips mould around my own, but then he regained his senses, placed his hands on my arms, and began to return the kiss. I absorbed every detail of him that I could, feeling my heart start to ache. It would be seven decades before I saw him again.

This was my goodbye to him. And he would never know that in this lifetime.

"For the road," I murmured against his lips, before pulling back and smiling. "You be brave out there, Sarge. That's an order."

Bucky gave me a charming, crooked smile, saluted, and then turned away to jump in the truck. The guys all waved to me as they drove off, and I waved back, trying to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. I turned my head when I heard light footsteps coming towards me, and smiled at Agatha when she slid her hand into mine and squeezed it comfortingly.

"You got Phillips not to let me go." There was no accusation in my voice, only simple acceptance. There was nothing I could do to change anything now.

Agatha glanced at me. "You were on the brink even without having to witness him fall," she reminded me softly. "Being there and being forced to watch it would destroy you."

"It would, that's for sure," I agreed.

"You gonna be okay?" she asked.

And for the first time in a while, I was confident in my answer. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm going to be fine. I'll get through this, for his sake, if nothing else."

"It's going to hurt."

"Most things usually do."

"You'll want revenge."

"Don't worry - I won't be the only one."

Agatha looked at me. "Are you sure you're okay? Because it's perfectly harmless to admit you're not."

I sighed. "I'm alright, Ags, I promise. When we go out there to go after Schmidt, I'll be going with the purpose of avenging the life he should have had. Not avenging his supposed death. There's a big difference between the two."

"If he lived his life the way he'd wanted, you would never have fallen in love with James."

I chuckled. "Yes, that's true. But that doesn't mean he didn't deserve the life he dreamed of. Maybe one day we'll have the chance to recreate that, but for now, all I can do is punish those who destroyed it in the first place. I think I owe him that."

Agatha shook her head. "You don't owe him anything. And you and I both know he'd agree."

"I do," I said simply. "But I don't agree. In my head and heart I know that I owe him everything, and that's what matters."

Sighing, Agatha nodded. "Fine. I won't stop you, and I know I couldn't even if I tried. Just stay calm, because I'm not going to be there to help, and neither is he."

I sighed, fiddling with the stone around my neck. I often forgot it was even there, and other times I wanted nothing more than to throw it into a river, but now, it was just a reminder of what and who I was. Where I came from. And that helped to ground me. "I survived losing him once, Ags," I reminded her softly. "I can do it again. I know I can."

* * *

Peggy approached me directly for the first time in a few months two days later. We'd both been so busy that neither of us had really had the chance to stop and even chat for a few minutes. But with my temporary dismissal from the Howling Commandos, I had some free time. And so, it seemed, did she.

I wasn't really doing anything. I'd found an empty step leading up to an empty building and just sat myself down. I was out of the way, so the fact Peggy found me at all was a little surprising.

"You know when sometimes you just have a bad feeling about something?" I asked.

"Yes?"

"I have a bad feeling."

Peggy smiled. "Worried about your boys?"

"I'm always worried about my boys," I said with a laugh. Then I sighed. "This is different, though."

"You think one of them will get hurt?"

I couldn't help but scoff. "I think a few injuries are the least of my worries."

Peggy paled slightly. "You think one of them will be killed?" Her voice was suddenly very small.

Swallowing, I nodded. "Yes. I fear so."

Peggy cleared her throat, and I sensed she was also choking up a little. "Well," she said at length, "let's hope you're proven wrong."

"Peggy."

"Yes?"

"I don't think I will be. I'm usually right about things like this."

Peggy lowered her eyes. "We can still hope," she whispered.

Sighing, I wrapped and arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a half-hug. "I'm sorry I'm such a downer," I said weakly.

"A downer? What does that mean?"

"A kill-joy. I'm not exactly making us all happy, am I?"

Peggy chuckled. "No, you're right - you're not. But I suppose the situation doesn't really call for false promises and false hope."

I sighed. "Unfortunately, my bad feelings and instincts are nearly always correct in some form or another. I think it might be best for us to prepare for the worst."

Peggy laughed without humour. "Trust me, Eve, I do that every time I see you guys leave."

I blinked, then grinned. "So you talked to Steve about your feelings yet?"

Peggy blushed and cleared her throat. "Um... No...?"

I groaned. "Peggy! You can't just keep holding back. Tell you what - next time you see him, I want you to grab the guy and kiss him. Knowing him, anything more subtle will go completely over his head."

Peggy's face was rather charmingly pink now. "Evelyn, I can't just-!"

"Well, why not?"

"Because...!"

I chuckled. "Yeah, saying 'because' never really got anybody anywhere."

Peggy shoved me lightly in the shoulder. "It's just not right, okay? Besides, the guy should be the one to-"

"Peggy." My serious tone of voice had her pausing, before she followed my gaze to where a Jeep had just pulled up to the camp. The two of us both stood up and watched as, one by one, the Howling Commandos left the vehicle, Gabe Jones escorting one Arnim Zola towards to cells. Steve was the last one to climb out, and the expression of absolute heartbreak on his face was enough. Even though I knew it was coming, I still felt my throat tighten and my eyes start to itch. "You know what I was saying about bad feelings?" I asked with a quivering voice.

"Sergeant Barnes," Peggy whispered, eyes dim with sympathy and sorrow. She hadn't known Bucky that well, but she had liked what she did know of him. He was so easy to get along with. I hadn't realised until now just how many people would have to suffer Bucky's loss.

"If you want to find Steve, he'll be trying and failing to drown his sorrows with a bottle or two of alcohol," I said emotionlessly, walking towards the firing range.

"What about you?" Peggy asked. "I know you two were just as close as he and Steve."

I sighed. "I've dealt with loss before, Peg. And... I dunno. Maybe the shock hasn't set in yet, but I'm... relatively okay for now. If you need me, I'll be shooting something."

Peggy gave me a sad smile. "The usual, then?"

I nodded. "The usual."

* * *

"Colonel," I greeted, having been called to the command tent from my spout of firing bullets into a target. I'd finally started managing to get a few bullets into the same hole, but it was hardly every time.

"Sergeant Major," he said in return. "How are the targets?"

I shrugged sheepishly. "You... may or may not need to get some new ones."

"I figured as much. Your practice shooting alone will bankrupt the army."

"I highly doubt that, sir," I said with a meagre smile. "So, what's the plan of attack?"

"So far, we don't have one. But anyone will tell you that Johann Schmidt belongs in a bug house," Phillips said, talking mainly to the guys who didn't really know what they were getting into. "He thinks he's a God. He's willing to blow half the world prove it, starting with the U.S.A."

"Schmidt's working with powers beyond our capabilities," Howard Stark suddenly piped up, looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, though he carried it well. "If he gets across the Atlantic, he will wipe out the entire eastern seaboard in an hour."

"How much time we got?" Gabe Jones asked.

"According to my new best friend, 24 hours," Phillips said. "Hydra's last base is here, in the Alps." He pointed at a spot on the map in front of him. "500 feet below the surface."

"So what are supposed to do?" Jim Morita asked.

"We walk up to it and demand to be let in," I murmured, eyeing the map closely.

Morita stared at me like I'd gone insane. "What? We can't just knock on the front door, Eve!"

"Why not?" Steve suddenly asked, that determined gleam back in his eye. "That's exactly what we're going to do."

"And how exactly is that going to work?" Phillips asked, frowning.

"It's quite simple, Colonel," I said patiently. "One of us - probably Steve, since Schmidt no doubt knows he was closest to Bucky out of all of us - will ride up to the front gates, cause a little mayhem, and draw Schmidt's attention. Meanwhile, you can have a force of soldiers waiting just beyond sight of the base ready to attack as soon as you get a signal."

"And how do we get Rogers out? He'll get caught."

I chuckled. "Every Hydra base has a weak spot, usually in the form of a window or a roof. In this case, it'll be the former. We need to find this window, because, knowing the arrogance of Schmidt, his office will be where the window is. He's the leader, therefore he gets all the luxuries."

"If I'm captured," Steve said, "I'll likely get taken to that room. The Howling Commandos can be ready to break into that room through the windows. It should give us the chance to get ourselves armed _and_ inside the base."

Phillips frowned. "And you're sure this will work?"

I snorted. "Are you kidding? Steve Rogers showing up at Schmidt's front door on some hell-bent revenge mission? He'll fall for it faster than a rock on Jupiter." Phillips stared blankly at me. I rolled my eyes. "Okay, forget the analogy. _Yes,_ it will work. So long as everyone knows what they're doing and they're willing to put their all into it. Because this mission is going to require nothing less."

"I'm in," Morita said instantly.

"Yeah, me too," Dugan said with a grin.

"So are we," Jones said, pointing at himself and Dernier, who nodded firmly.

"Count me in." That was Falsworth.

Phillips looked at me. I held up my hands. "Hey, I was the one to suggest the idea. You _know_ I'm in."

"So am I," Peggy said, her voice firm. I could tell Steve wanted to argue, but joint glares from both Peggy and myself promptly had his mouth snapping shut. I could tell he wasn't happy, but he'd just have to deal with it.

Phillips nodded, looking vaguely pleased. "Then," he said at length, "it looks like we have a plan."


	23. 23 - Revenge Mission

**A/N: And here is the final part of the First Avenger. Hopefully I've done the whole movie justice, but when it's as good as it is, that isn't easy. On the plus side, you'll finally be able to read Daphne's letters next chapter, and then we're back to the future! (Heh, I just _had_ to put that in there. I am totally not sorry at all).**

 **Big thanks to: efbluc and LovingBOBThePacific for favouriting and following!**

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* * *

 **23 - Revenge Mission**

I watched with amusement as the guys around me constantly jumped up and down, trying to get some more warmth into their bodies. Apparently the thick coats and many layers of clothing weren't enough.

"How are you not frozen to the core right now?" Dugan asked, rubbing his hands together.

Unlike the others, I wasn't layered up. I was wearing my normal army uniform with a winter coat over the top. No hat. No scarf. No gloves. I turned to Dugan and grinned. "I spent a lot of my past living in Russia. If you think _this_ is cold, you've another thing coming if you ever want to head over there."

Dugan stared at me, then grunted. "Yeah, I think I'll pass on that."

I chuckled. "Thought so." I lifted up the pair of binoculars in my hand and eyed the inside of Schmidt's office. I'd been right about the window, and luckily finding it hadn't proven a massive issue; the thing was huge. "Oh, we've got incoming." I watched with gritted teeth as Steve was hauled into the office, held down by several men. "Okay, boys, let's get this show on the road."

Falsworth sent me an odd look. "You know, more often than not, you say the strangest things."

I chuckled. "It's all part of my charm, Falsworth. Now let's go already! Time's a-wasting." I grabbed hold of the handles, before jumping off the platform I was standing on and ziplining towards Schmidt's office. The guys followed closely behind me, and it wasn't long before a few shots had the window bursting in a spray of glass shards. I landed first, drawing my trusty BARs and sending a spray of bullets at the men standing guard by the doors.

Oh, I was _definitely_ going to enjoy this.

I idly noted in the corner of my eye that Steve had gotten his vibranium shield back, and was pounding his way through the rest of the guards. While most of the Howling Commandos went off to explore the rest of the base and take down as many Hydra soldiers as possible, I followed Steve after Schmidt.

"I think it's working," Steve said with a grin as I caught up with him.

I couldn't help but laugh. "If there's one thing I've learnt in my life-" I ducked when a bullet ricocheted off the wall behind me, before spinning and shooting the gun who fired at me in the chest. "What was I saying?"

"Something you've learnt," Steve noted with amusement as the two of us continued to jog through the compound.

"Right." I sent a short spray of bullets at the two men in front of me. Both went down. "It's there's one thing I've learnt in my life, it's that things never go the way you expect them to."

"Well, you can't predict the future," Steve noted, throwing his shield and knocking out four men.

"That thing does not obey the laws of physics," I grumbled, shooting three more soldiers who had tried to sneak up on us. "And it wasn't made to become a boomerang either."

"What's a boomerang?"

"It's a stick that you throw and comes back to you," I said simply, ducking as he threw the shield again and it soared neatly over my head. I watched as the shield bounced off the wall (having done its job just as beautifully as always) and came back to Steve's waiting hand.

He grinned at me and shrugged. "If it works, I'm gonna use it."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

Steve ducked when a few men tried shooting at him, and while his head was down I lifted my weapons and killed the guys shooting at him. "Why is it there are always men trying to kill us?" Steve asked with a grin.

I couldn't help but laugh. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men."

"Did you just quote the bible?"

I grinned. "In a way, I suppose. Some might say I quoted Pulp Fiction." I looked around, realising were cutting our timing dangerously close. "Schmidt's gonna get away from us if we're not fast."

"Me," Steve said sternly. I blinked at him. "He's gonna get away from _me_."

"Steve-"

"No, Evelyn," he cut in, pausing only to throw his shield, knocking out two more men in one fell swoop before he caught the shield again. "I'm going on alone. You need to go and find Phillips and the others."

I scowled at him, not even blinking once when I lifted a gun and fired down the corridor without looking, before hearing the muted thud of a body hitting the ground. "Steve, I need to do this. Bucky was every bit as important to me as he was to you."

"I know," he assured me quickly. "And I know this is personal for you on another level, too. But..." He hesitated, bit his lip, and then let out a long breath. "I don't think this is going to work out as we planned," he confessed. "I'm worried about Peggy, and you're the only person I trust to keep her safe."

"She can take care of herself."

"I know," he repeated, this time with more urgency. We both flinched when a stream of bullets hit the wall not two inches from Steve's head, and I spun around to return the fire, smirking with sick satisfaction as another body joined the ever-growing pile on the floor. "Please, Evelyn," Steve said. "If this goes south, I want to know for sure that she's got someone I trust to keep an eye on her. Please?"

I let out a sigh, grumbling, " _Those puppy eyes will be the fucking death of me_ ," under my breath in Russian. "Fine," I relented at length. "But you owe me, Rogers."

He gave me a relieved, grateful smile. "I'll be sure to remember that."

I nodded, stepping back from him. "Go," I said firmly. "You have a red-face bastard to find."

Steve turned around and laughed, yelling, "Language!" over his shoulder.

"Shut up, Steve!" I couldn't help but grin again despite the disappointment that curled in my stomach due to the fact I couldn't rip that monster's skull from his spine. I shook away that thought and began concentrating on taking out the Hydra soldiers that tried to go after Steve. It wasn't long before he was out of sight, and instead I headed towards what my gut told me was the direction I wanted.

I heard footsteps coming down the next corridor and pinned myself to the wall, quickly reloading my gun, before darting around the corner and lifting my weapon, preparing to shoot.

Only to come face-to-face with one of our own men.

I lowered the gun and smirked. "Nice of you to show up."

"Likewise, Sergeant Major."

I chuckled, hitting the guy on the shoulder, and then asking, "Where's the Colonel?"

"He went the other way, along with Agent Carter and a few others."

I nodded. "Good. I want you guys to look for any lower levels. Being a Hydra base, there's bound to be a secret room or two. Check behind cupboards and bookshelves. More often than not, things like that double as doors."

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am." Then he and the others raced off the way I'd come from. I turned around and continued scoping the base, taking out a soldier every now and then, but otherwise wandering unhindered.

It wasn't long before I found myself in a massive hangar, which I knew once held Schmidt's plane. But now it was empty. I looked towards the end of the long runway, and saw two figures walking back towards the hangar. Peggy and Phillips, no doubt. Which meant Steve was already on the plane. Which meant I'd missed my opportunity to say goodbye.

My eyes zeroed in on a control room above me.

Or... perhaps not.

"Steve's gone after Schmidt," Peggy told me quietly as she sidled up next to me. I could see a faint, nervous tremble in her body, and so, as subtly as I could, I took her hand gently in my own. She gave me a grateful smile and squeezed my hand. She let out a shaky breath. "Evelyn?"

"Yes?"

"I have a bad feeling."

I grimaced. "Yeah," I said quietly. "So do I." I glanced around. "There's a control room just up there," I told her, pointing at said room. "We might be able to get radio contact with the plane. And Steve."

Peggy inhaled heavily, before nodding. "Alright. Do you know how to work the controls?"

I chuckled. "How hard can it be?"

* * *

As it turned out... pretty hard. I was good with 21st Century computers, but not so much with these old things. Still, with the combined help of Peggy and Morita (who was a bit of a genius when it came to computer knowledge), we managed to get the machine up and running.

"Steve?" Peggy asked slowly. There was no answer.

"I think you'll have to wait for Steve to make contact," I told her softly, sitting myself next to her. "He's likely to be a bit busy right now."

So we waited. Minutes passed, dragging slowly. Peggy grasped both my hands in hers, tight enough to turn her knuckles white, and for my fingers to groan a little in protest. Even so, I didn't dare to ask her to loosen her grip. Instead I gently ran my thumbs over her knuckles, trying to soothe her nerves slightly. But I knew what was coming. And I knew there wasn't much I'd be able to do to help her through that.

" _Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?_ "

Peggy's face lit up like the sun, and she scrambled to answer. "Steve, is that really you? Are you alright?"

" _Peggy! Schmidt's dead._ "

"The fact you're able to stop and talk to us is a bit of a give-away, Cap," I teased, smiling at Peggy.

" _Eve._ " Steve sounded relieved to learn that I'd done as asked and tracked Peggy down.

"What about the plane?" Peggy asked, ever the proper Agent.

I could hear the heaviness in Steve's voice when he replied. " _That's a little bit tougher to explain._ "

"Give me your coordinates," Peggy said, scrambling around, no doubt in search of a piece of paper. "I'll find you a safe landing site."

" _There's not gonna be a safe landing. I'm gonna try and force it down._ "

"I'll get Howard on the line," Peggy said frantically. "He'll know what to do. O-Or maybe Evelyn..." She looked at me, eyes wide and hopeful, but I just shook my head slowly. I wouldn't do anything, even if I could. But she didn't know that. My heart broke for her when her face crumpled slightly.

" _There's not enough time. This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York._ " There was a pause and a few clicking noises in the background, probably in the form of flicking switches. " _I gotta put her in the water._ "

"Please don't do this," Peggy begged. "We still have time; we can work it out."

" _Right now, I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are gonna die._ "

Peggy sobbed softly, and I quickly drew her into my arms, trying to be her support for when the moment finally came. "Steve?" I asked.

" _Yeah?_ "

"You're the best damn guy in the world. I hope you remember that."

Steve laughed. " _I'll do my best, Eve. For what it's worth, you're pretty incredible as well. And Peggy?"_

"I'm here," Peggy said quietly.

" _I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance_."

Peggy huffed, her face spreading into a watery smile. "Alright," she said. "A week, next Saturday. At the Stork Club."

" _You got it._ "

"8'o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"

" _You know, I still don't know how to dance._ "

Peggy laughed, but it was weak, and I knew she was very close to breaking. "I'll show you how," she promised. "Just be there."

" _We'll have the band play something slow,_ " Steve said decisively. " _I'd hate to step on your-_ "

The connection suddenly broke, leaving nothing but the sound of static. "Steve?" Peggy asked weakly, tears falling freely from her eyes now. "Steve? Steve?" And then she began to cry in earnest, burying her face into my shoulder as I continued to hold her, my own tears smearing my face. As I cradled Peggy in my arms, I made a promise to myself that I'd keep an eye on her. For Steve's sake. Because that's what I'd promised him, and I always tried to keep my promises to the best of my ability. I would make sure she got on with her life and was happy. Even if it was without him by her side. I knew he'd want that for her.

I didn't know what to think, to be honest. I hadn't been lying when I told Steve he was the best, but even so, we weren't hugely close. He was my friend and my comrade, and I respected him above all else. But really, the only thing that connected us in this time was Bucky. Now they were both gone. It was strange. Steve was the one who'd just gone down and all I wanted to do was cry for Bucky all over again.

Then I remembered Peggy, for whom the agony was fresh. When she cried there was a rawness to it, her pain like an open wound. She clasped onto me for support and her whole body shook with more violence than I would have expected from the normally so controlled woman. The sobs were stifled at first as she attempted to hide her grief, but then, no doubt overcome by the wave of her emotions, she broke down entirely, all her defences washed away in those salty tears. Brick by brick, her walls came tumbling down.

When she at last raised her head from my shoulder, she was a picture of pain and utter devastation. It was the face of one who had suffered before and didn't know if she could do it again. But I knew she could. Peggy was strong. That was one of the reasons Steve had liked her so much - she was strong, and she wasn't afraid.

And as I continued to comfort her, saying nothing, just offering my presence, I realised that this loss would only have made her stronger. She'd been beaten down, but she'd go on to rise so much higher.

That life Steve would want her to have, she would find. Because he had faith in her. And I had faith in her. And she had the strength to endure.

 _Goodbye, Steve. Until next we meet._


	24. 24 - After The War

**A/N: So this chapter is almost 4,000 words long... I just couldn't stop writing. But here we are at last - the long-awaited letters! And then next chapter... You can probably guess what happens next chapter. Actually, on that note, I have a little announcement to make: I have every intention of keeping this fanfic T rated, HOWEVER... I have paired up with an awesome writer who so far focuses solely on M rated fics, and she has agreed to write the more mature moments of this story over on her account. So, if you're interested, keep an eye on CheekyLittleFoxy's account for that story to be posted. I will also inform you at the time when she posts her chapters.**

 **Big thanks to: maid in time, MissShellyBabes, Arkensas Sweetheart, Bookcrazey and Saphem for favouriting/following. Thank guys! :D**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Eryniel Alasse: I can imagine it was probably as hard to write the feels as i was to read them, though I'm glad to hear they worked :) Thanks as always for your continued support! :)**

 **angelAnabiel: I'm sorry I made you cry, but at the same, I'm kind of glad, because it means I wrote it well... Thanks!**

 **Bookcrazey: I know what you said wasn't funny, but for some reason your comment about 'butchering' just made me laugh. Glad to hear you're enjoying it, and thanks a lot for all the following you've been doing with this series!**

* * *

 **24 - After the War**

 _October 13th, 1945._

 _Bucky's gone. And Steve's gone. And the war is over. The whole world celebrates our victory, yet in the corner of every bar we enter, the guys and I will always drink our first round to those guys. Because for us, the war ending is not enough to make up for the people we lost._

 _I don't know how much of this time you remember, but I'm going to admit something to you, Shadow. I loved him. I loved Bucky. Heck, I still do. And I don't love him because he was who you used to be, I love him because he was brilliant. In almost every way conceivable. Do you remember that last day? The day when he asked me to just pretend we were only people in the world? I didn't agree to it because it was his last day and I felt sorry for him; I did it because I decided we both deserved the chance to live our lives as we would have done had nothing else been true. If I hadn't come from a completely different time. If he wasn't destined to fall into Hydra's hands the next day. I hope you can understand that. Evelyn and Bucky belong to each other. But, I think Evelyn died along with him. I'm the woman you know best all over again, and I'll always belong to you, Shadow._

 _Love Always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _February 29th, 1948._

 _I know it's been a long time, and I'm sorry, but I've been busy. Sort of. I quit the army two years ago, after being promoted (again), and after that I started to live life the way I wanted to. I still had your voice in my head, telling me I needed to learn how to drive. So I did. Now you need to follow up on your end of the bargain and finally get a damned phone._

 _I've also started taking guitar lessons. I can read music now, for the most part. Sometimes it still takes a bit of thought, but I'm getting better. I also started learning new languages. As much as I hated it in school, it turns out that after learning your first language it becomes easier. I've gone from two to seven fluent languages in just over a decade. Not bad, especially considering half of that time I was in a war._

 _Agatha had her first children last week. Two little boys. Named them Henry James and Francis Steven Frye. Guess you two made more of an impact on other people than you thought. They're really adorable by the way, although we were all scared for a while. Henry was born healthy, but a complication with the second birth meant both Francis and Agatha nearly died. Agatha got better very quickly, but it took four days for Francis to be out of the danger zone. Agatha made me their godmother. She didn't seem to care that I'd outlive both her children. Nor that I might not be able to see them often. She was adamant, and, to be honest, it's not like I put up all that much of a fight._

 _I got a dog today. Well, I say that - a stray followed me home, and I decided to keep it. She's a little labrador. And I mean little - she's probably about half the height of a standard lab. Probably why she was on the street. Which is a shame, because she's really sweet. I named her Buttercup. Before you ask, I'd just like to point out she has a strange obsession for those flowers, and every time she goes outside she'll come back in with a flower or two between her teeth. I just thought it suited her. I haven't gone mad, I swear._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _April 2nd, 1948._

 _A wanted criminal came into the shop today. I don't know if I told you last time, but I work in a shop now. A music shop. It's really quiet, and the owner's really friendly, so it's a good job. Even if it doesn't pay much. Anyway, this guy walked in, and started looking at some of the pianos stocked in the back. That was fine. But you know what I'm like - I don't trust people. And this guy set me on edge the moment I saw him._

 _But, it was my job to offer help. So I did. And he said he was fine. Which would have been normal, were it not for the fact he was looking over his shoulder every ten seconds, like he was expecting someone to come charging in after him. Which, as it turned out, was exactly the case. It wasn't long before the entire shop was surrounded by police cars._

 _The guy turns to me, pulls out a gun, and orders me to lead him out a side entrance. And, let's be honest, it was a fair assumption to make because just about every shop in existence has a back exit. So I lead him out to the back, and then hit him over the head with a couple of symbols. They caved around his skull fairly easily, but they knocked him out nonetheless. After that, I told the police where to find him, and handed his gun over. It took nearly twenty minutes to convince them I was ex-military and not secretly a criminal as well. They didn't like the fact I had been able to knock him out when he was armed and I was not. In the end, I had to dig out my service patches to prove it, along with my discharge papers._

 _I officially hate police officers. Arrogant, pretentious bastards._

 _As if the day couldn't get any worse, one of the people sharing my apartment building managed to set the whole thing on fire. Luckily, Buttercup managed to get out, but all my stuff was in that apartment. Not anything especially important - no, I gave most of that to S.H.I.E.L.D. to keep hold of - but that was still my house. It's a good thing the Fryes are always pretty welcoming._

 _Henry and Francis are growing scarily quickly. They're total opposites, too - Francis is really quiet and doesn't really do much, whereas Henry is constantly shouting and stomping around like a robot (which seems impossible, since he can't walk yet, and can barely crawl, but somehow he still manages it). It'd be funny, if it wasn't going on nearly every second of the day. Still, those two are the cutest little guys I've ever met, so it's impossible to stay mad at them for long._

 _I wish I had you with me today. You would have made it all so much easier to cope with. Don't get me wrong, I'm really grateful I've got Agatha and Jack to help me out, but they're just not you._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _December 14th, 1948._

 _I think I need to die, Shadow. Well, I need to make it look like that. I've lived in Brooklyn since '37 (more or less) and I haven't changed a bit. People are starting to notice. I'm starting to hear whispers about the girl who never ages. I'm supposed to be 35 right now, but I still don't look a day over 28. I've talked with Agatha about it, of course, but she's hesitant to go through with it. Even though she knows I'll be the same person when I come back, I'll have a different name and a different appearance all over again._

 _Peggy got in contact with me today. Asked me to come in for a mission. I do that sometimes - if they're really struggling, I'll come in to S.H.I.E.L.D. and give them a hand. I figured I could use this mission as an excuse to fake my own death. I'll have to make it look convincing, though. Funnily enough, my only source of inspiration so far has been a few history books. I'll keep looking, and I'll write again once this version of me has died and the next is born. Or... whatever._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _January 3rd, 1950._

 _Well, it's done. I'm in Cuba right now, on the run from the Brazilian government (it's a long story). I'll have to keep moving, though, because pretty much all of the Americas is on the look out for Coralie Bachelot (that's me). Maybe I'll go to Europe. Or Asia. Or Africa. I've never been to Africa before, so that could be interesting. And I've always wanted to visit Wakanda._

 _Anyway, there's not really much more to say. I don't want to distract myself too much by writing and then missing someone sneaking up on me. Missing you as usual._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _November 24th, 1951._

 _I had no idea it would be so difficult gaining the trust of the Wakandans. I mean, sure, I'm not the easiest person in the world to trust, but I hadn't anticipated that they knew who I was. Then again, as King Azzuri told me, just because the world ignores Wakanda does not mean Wakanda ignores the world._

 _As soon as I arrived in Wakanda, I was arrested. Seeing as how thoroughly the Brazilians want my head, they instantly knew I'd be a threat. So they arrested me, and took me straight to the monarchy. I explained to the king that the man I killed (he was some kind of high-up politician or aristocrat, or something) was actually a wanted Hydra member. They, of course, knew who Hydra was, and asked me to prove it._

 _The papers took a month to arrive from the U.S., which meant a month of me confined to a single flat. A month. No training to pass the time. Nothing of the sort. All my weapons were taken from me (that one was understandable, but I didn't like it any more because of that). After that month passed, and I was finally let out, I asked permission from the king to stay in the country. Took four days for me to get an affirmative answer. But he gave me a condition - that I helped to train his son how to fight._

 _It was only yesterday that I was finally told the reason for this training, and I probably shouldn't be writing it down in a letter (or telling anyone at all), but I've never exactly been a stickler for rules. The vibranium that is sourced back to Wakanda was actually brought to the Earth on the back of some kind of meteorite several thousands of years ago. Being such a rare and tough metal, people of all different backgrounds started trying to get their hands on some. The monarchs at the time created what's now known as the Panther Clan in order to keep the country hidden and protected from the rest of the world, and the mantle of Black Panther has been passed down from father to son (or brother) ever since. King Azzuri is the current Black Panther, but his son, T'Chaka, is next in line to hold the title._

 _While T'Chaka is already incredibly talented and an extremely capable fighter (which is a little bit scary, since he's not even 9 years old (his birthday's in 6 days, and he's very excited)), Azzuri told me that some training from outside sources would benefit them greatly. Considering I was promised that King Azzuri would not only keep Brazilian and American eyes off of me, but he would also try to clear my name as soon as possible, I agreed._

 _I don't know when this letter will make it back to America, since that's where I'm keeping all of them now, but I've made enough secret compartments and hiding places in my new house to keep it safe for now._

 _I love you, and I miss you, and I really hope time will start working a bit faster, because I've still got 63 years to go before I get to see you again. This is going to drive me insane, I just know it._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _April 17th, 1952._

 _I got called back to America a week ago, because S.H.I.E.L.D. hit another blockade (I still work for S.H.I.E.L.D. from time to time, but they don't know I'm the same person as Evelyn Moore). They think they've got a mole, but they can't figure out who it is. As soon as I showed up I knew who it was, because he was just standing there with his stupid round glasses and that smug little smirk on his face. But I can't tell the others, because then the entire future will be completely ruined. Which is a shame, because I_ really _want to tell everyone. Even so, I filed the report yesterday: no moles found._

 _They asked me to stick around for a while, and I got the confirmation from King Azzuri just this morning. So I'm back with the Fryes (and Buttercup!). I don't know how long I'll stay here, but Agatha, being Agatha, said I was welcome as long as I liked. They have a big house, so I suppose it's not a huge issue, me being here._

 _Henry and Francis are 4 years old now, and they're still as totally different as ever. Francis is a bit socially awkward, though he's got two truly amazing friends. He's very smart, very well behaved, and can't do sport to save his life. Henry is the flip side. He can't sit still for longer than about 15 seconds, and his attention has a habit of drifting. He's not doing badly in school, but he's got a long way to go if he ever wants to reach his brother's level. Henry is the sportsman - he's plays football (or soccer, as you Americans call it), and he plays baseball. Kind of. He plays soccer for the junior school team, but he plays baseball with his dad and uncle. I just want to reiterate that these kids are 4 years old. If I hadn't been there when they were born, I wouldn't believe it._

 _Agatha's pregnant again. As of today, she's six months in. I really wish ultrasound scanners existed right now, because I (and she) would love to see what her baby looks like. And she's convinced it's only one this time, because she's significantly smaller than she was before the boys were born._

 _Oh, and, before I forget, I bought a farm a few days ago. Not a very big one (I think it's about 20 acres), but it's got a cute little farmhouse and a massive barn. No animals yet, but hopefully soon. For some reason, that conversation I had with you during our first Hydra raid stuck with me. Maybe one day I can show you that farm, if you want me to. I think you'd like it there. It's not too close to the city, but it's close enough that getting there isn't a ridiculously long drive._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _August 29th, 1953 (I think)._

 _How much do you know about Asgard, James? Probably not much, but you should probably do some research. Because that's where I am right now. Heimdall, the Asgardians' gatekeeper of sorts, pulled me from Earth a few months ago. King Odin wasn't pleased, by any stretch of the imagination, but hey, I haven't been called a goat yet, so... (If you want to know about the context behind that, ask Thor, or Jane (his girlfriend))._

 _As it turns out, having two versions of the same person at the same time is against the rules. As soon as Heimdall noticed there were two Daphne Sparrows on Earth, he sucked me up here. And I'm not allowed to leave. Clearly, if you're reading this, I was allowed back at some point, but, in order to avoid any potential disasters, I've been forbidden from going back to Earth in the near future._

 _Well, there go six decades worth of plans. They will be missed._

 _Heimdall's nice enough, though. I've made a habit of holing myself up in the Bifrost, and every now and then he'll give me an update of how things are going with Agatha and the rest. Apparently, they're all freaking out a little over my disappearance, which is understandable. I was actually_ with _Agatha when I was pulled to Asgard, so she'll have it worst._

 _Oh, and I might have accidentally befriended Loki. Don't tell anyone. Seriously. Besides Thor, they will hate me forever if they ever find out._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _Date: Unknown._

 _I used to wonder whether there was any point in trying to stay tuned with Earth events. Nothing seemed to change much, except kids grew older, and adults grew older. Edward was recently diagnosed with tuberculosis. He's expected to die within a week or two. I realised, after Heimdall told me that, that all I was doing was watching my friends slowly waste away. So I've stopped looking._

 _I've spent the last few days training nearly constantly with the Lady Sif. I have to say, after spending years using guns, it feels absolutely incredible having swords back in my hands. I was a little rusty at first, but it didn't take long before I'd found my old rhythm. After watching me practice, I think Odin's finally starting to see more of my worth, which is nice. Certainly, he doesn't openly insult me (and the human race) in front of me anymore._

 _Thor's an arrogant prick right now. Don't get me wrong, he's a great guy, and a right laugh to be with, but he's a little too self-absorbed for his own good. I'm trying to train him out of it, so his banishment later comes a little easier, but he's so thick-headed I'm not sure it'll do any good._

 _Wish you were here. You'd love all the stars. Day and night have little meaning here, since there is no sun and the sky is always filled with stars. The only way to tell the difference between them is by keeping note of when you eat and when you sleep._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _December 12th, 1989._

 _As you can probably guess, Heimdall let me go back to Earth for the first time today. I had three things on my list: 1). See Agatha. 2). Add my letters to the box. 3). Go visit that little girl's grave._

 _Do you remember the story about that little girl I accidentally killed while killing her father? I promised myself I'd try to make up for it a long time ago. I finally got the chance to apologise today. Her grave is a tiny, insignificant little thing, but the moment I saw it, I almost broke down. Her name was Lois Annabelle Granger. She was just five years old._

 _I don't know how long I was sat there, knelt in front of her grave, apologising over and over again, but it helped. Maybe I've gone a little bit crazy, but I could have sworn that girl was there. After several minutes of apologising, I just suddenly felt... warm, I guess would be the best way to describe it. I don't know what that means, but it made me feel better._

 _Heimdall gave me until midnight, so I've really got to wrap this up and get it in the box._

 _I love you, Shadow. Always.  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _September 11th, 1999._

 _This will only be quick, because I'm on a tight schedule. For a moment I got very scared when I appeared at the Frye household and was told by a very old Jack that Agatha was no longer living there. I spent a full five minutes panicking, thinking I'd missed her death. Then Jack calmly told me she'd been put in a care home, because her bones are getting too frail for her to walk properly, and he's not strong enough to keep helping her any more._

 _For a 79 year old woman, Agatha looks incredibly strong, even though I know she's not. None of her energy has been lost, she just doesn't use it to move around anymore. It's so incredibly hard being by her, knowing she's grown old and had a great life, and I've only visited a few times. Not that I had much choice, but it's still hard looking at a woman who's fifty years older than me in body, when I met her when she was 17. That's not easy at all._

 _I worked it out. I'm 140 years old today. Which is a shame, because that means I can no longer make any old man jokes about you (in my head, at least - I don't think I ever actually said anything about it out loud)._

 _Love always,  
_ _Silver._

* * *

 _July 25th, 2014._

 _This will be the last letter I write to you before I see you again. I cannot express in words how much I'm looking forward to that day. When all this started, I was terrified I'd stop loving you over time, but that's not been the case. If anything, I've only come to love you more._

 _By now, in your eyes, I will be dead. Hopefully by the time you come to read this you'll know all about what happened to me. It's not easy to explain on paper. Saying it out loud will probably be harder. But if you have any questions, you should know I'll be completely willing to answer them._

 _I know how you work. You like to get all the information you can, which is why I'm confident you'll find all these letters. Agatha was asleep when I visited her today, so she won't know this letter is here. Maybe it's better that way._

 _At this point, I don't think there's much more information I can give you. Now, I just have an instruction. Go to Agent Silva. Tell her to bring you to me. She'll know where I'll be, and she'll know what to do. I trust that woman with my life, Shadow, so you can do the same._

 _I hope to see you as soon as possible. And I love you. Despite everything else, that hasn't changed._

 _For the last time, love always,  
_ _Silver._


	25. 25 - Over In A Second

**A/N: Early update because I just couldn't wait to post it! This one will hurt. Just a pre-warning. So many feels, of all kinds. But, I hope you enjoy it anyway :)**

 **Big thanks to: xxxI. Love. Purple. Flowers. xxx and Jacxx for following this story.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **NESSAANCALIME6913: Yes, yes it is... :)**

 **Lara Barnes: Lucky for you the wait is shorter than normal ;) Hope you enjoy it.**

 **Eryniel Alasse: Yes, it is THE chapter. Haha, enjoy, and I'm glad you liked the letters.**

 **angelAnabiel: I would have liked to put more details about Asgard in too, but that would have made the chapter so long that I'd probably half felt the need to split it into two. I wanted to make sure it was only one chapter, so I had to omit some details. Glad to hear you liked it still, though. As for Agent Silva, I've had a lot of people speculating who she is... You'll find out soon, I promise.**

 **Bookcrazey: Yeah, everyone always talks about how being immortal would be awesome, and every time I just kind of stand there like... 'You're all insane.' In the nicest way possible, of course, but living that long without ageing would figuratively kill me.**

* * *

 **25 - Over In A Second**

James couldn't help but glare at the woman in front of him, who just gave him a blank-faced look.

"When you gave me that file, and told me to come seek you out if I had questions, I didn't expect you to be in a completely different country when I looked for you," he said coldly.

Silva rolled her eyes. "I got pulled away on a mission. _After_ I gave you the file, I might add. I had every intention of remaining close at hand, but plans change sometimes." She gave him a searching look. "I assume you know everything...?"

"I've read the file, and all her letters, if that's what you mean," he replied, pushing away from the wall he'd been leaning against. "Daphne told me I can trust you, and for her sake, I will." He paused, narrowing his eyes, before asking the question he'd been desperate to ask for two days. "Will you take me to her?"

Silva nodded. "Yes. But I warn you, she's probably not exactly the same woman that you remember."

"She's Daphne," he said simply. "That will never change."

Silva chuckled. "Yes, that's true, I suppose." She smiled at him, quite possibly the first wide and genuine smile he'd seen her give. "Well, come on, then. You might be impatient, but she's been waiting a damn sight longer than you."

* * *

James couldn't quite comprehend why Agent Silva insisted on dropping by her house and picking up a damned _dog_ , but when he'd expressed his frustration she'd looked him dead in the eyes and told him it was important.

Now they were stood on a hill above a beach, the German shepherd dog, Felix, restlessly wiggling, his eyes fixed further down the beach on something even James couldn't see. Agent Silva unhooked the leash and the beast bounded away, heading eagerly down towards the beach.

"I'm not going to go with you," Silva told him. "Just follow Felix - he'll lead you right to her."

Swallowing back the sudden tightness in his throat, James nodded, before trailing behind the dog, trying to ignore the racing of his heart in his chest.

If he was feeling this nervous and excited, he had no idea how Daphne would be feeling. He almost feared to find out.

James watched with sharp eyes as Felix continued to race ahead, barking loudly. It took a moment before he noticed an undoubtedly female figure turn around, only to lean down and catch the excitable dog in her arms. He could hear Felix's eager yelps from here.

His slow pace continued, giving her the chance to reunite with the animal which he now suspected belonged to her.

Suddenly her head turned up, and she laid eyes on him for the first time. His feet started carrying him faster when he saw her put Felix down, only to race towards him. As soon as she was within reach he swept her off her feet, planting a hot kiss on her lips, eyes closed as he tried to savour the moment. His heart threatened to burst pit of his chest, the love and joy and relief he felt nearly overwhelming him.

It flooded his whole body with warmth, with such tenderness and intensity it nearly made his limbs shake. The relief that clawed through him broke his heart even more, and then put it back together with stronger bonds and a protective layer that he'd never let go of again. His love for her flared and grew to levels he thought could never be reached. He didn't think he could love her more, but in that moment, he realised he was wrong. There was no limit for this love he felt. It would grow with every second he spent with or without her, whether they were in each others arms or at opposite ends of a room or half a world apart. That burning feeling in his chest would never stop expanding. And he welcomed it, because if he felt like this every time he saw her, he'd never want to be apart from her for a single second ever again. It consumed him so wholly and completely. _She_ consumed him. She had him wrapped around her little finger so tightly that they might as well have been one person. And, Gods, did he love it.

He loved having her in his arms, feeling her warmth pressed against his body, feeling her lips moving against his own. Her loved the weight of her body as he cradled her to him. He loved the feeling of her love, how it wrapped itself around his shoulders like that coat he'd offered her once. Like her at the time, he wasn't cold, but the warmth of her affection was one he'd always need and would never let escape his grasp.

Daphne's hands came to rest on his shoulders and she eagerly kissed his lips, his nose, his eyes, his cheeks, his forehead... Everywhere she could reach, she kissed, before she buried her face in his neck and began sobbing. James' hold on her tightened, his heart clenching at the sound of her pain.

"It's okay," he told her softly. "I'm here. We're both okay."

"It's been so long," she choked out. "I've missed you so much!"

James nodded. "I've missed you too," he said. He laughed humourlessly. "Probably nowhere near as much, but I missed you all the same." He pulled her head back again and kissed her firmly, his tongue gently stroking hers. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you," she said in return, before murmuring what he suspected was that very same phrase in several different languages between their eager kisses. He only understood it when it finally escaped her lips in Russian. " _I love you, James."_

At last she fell into his arms, leaning her head on his shoulder while his cheek came to rest on the top of her head. He held her tightly to him, and she did the same, both equally afraid that if they ever let go, they'd be separated from one another all over again. And neither were sure they'd survive it a second time.

James jerked slightly when he felt a foreign weight against his leg, and Daphne laughed, both of them looking down at the large dog who had sat himself right next to James, his tongue lolling out at the side as he looked up at them both with bright eyes. As if he knew the importance of what had just happened.

"Stupid dog," Daphne said fondly, crouching down to gently pet the dog. He barked at her, seemingly agreeing with her words, before his head swivelled to look up at James. He suddenly became inquisitive, standing up on all fours and slowly circling him, sniffing intently at James' legs and feet.

He was bewildered, having never had a dog before. "Um... what is he doing?"

"He's deciding whether or not he likes you," Daphne told him. He raised an eyebrow at her. Daphne chuckled. "Don't worry - most of the time, if I like you, he'll like you too."

James chuckled and gently scratched Felix behind his ear when the large dog looked up at him again. Felix moved his head to avoid James' hand, and then started licking his fingers. James grimaced slightly, pulling his hand away. "You're a right little charmer, aren't you?" he asked the dog, laughing when Felix barked again. James looked at Daphne, who was eyeing him with a tender expression on his face. "What?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I just got the impression you wouldn't like dogs very much."

"Just because I've never had one before doesn't mean I don't like them," he pointed out, watching as the dog started sniffing the floor again, before following whatever scent had caught his interest. "My family weren't exactly the most well-off people in Brooklyn. My parents could barely afford to look after us, let alone a pet as well."

She nodded. "They can be quite expensive," she said, before smiling and pouncing at him again. James chuckled, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm never going to leave you again," Daphne murmured. "Not once." She sighed, pressing a kiss against the side of his neck. "I love you, James."

James shifted so he could plant another kiss on her lips, relishing in the way her grasp on him tightened ever so slightly. "I love you, Daphne. Now. Always." Daphne suddenly gave him a mischievous grin, before taking his hand and starting to drag him along the beach. James laughed, following after her. "Where are we going?"

Her grin became a smirk. "I may or may not have been informed that there is a cabin on the top of that hill over there." He followed the point of her finger, and saw the vague outline of a building through the darkness. "And we may or may not have said cabin completely to ourselves for the next three days."

Without another word, James ducked down and swiped her feet out from underneath her, carrying her in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "We best make the most of it then, huh, doll?"

Daphne smiled coyly at him. "You took the words right out of my mouth, sweetheart."

* * *

When I woke up the next morning I just lay there, eyes closed, trying to hold onto the feeling of wholeness that had cradled me so gently over the night. It wasn't long before I let out a sigh and forced myself to face reality. So I opened my eyes, planning on continuing on with my life like I had for the last 77 years.

Only to come face to face with a muscular, bare chest.

Blinking slightly, then frowning, I lifted my gaze, taking note of the heavily scarred left shoulder, the metal arm, until, finally, my eyes fell on the fuzzy chin of the man I loved.

 _It wasn't a dream._

I had no words to describe the wash of emotion that soared through me at that moment, but, for the first time in almost longer than I could remember, I just felt... complete. When I blinked again, I felt a single droplet of water escape my eye. I watched it fall onto James' skin, and almost laughed when he twitched like he'd been poked in a particularly ticklish spot.

The thought made a grin stretch on to my lips. I slowly lifted myself off of his chest, part of me melting slightly when he let out a small sound of disappointment, before I jabbed two fingers into his side. Faster than I could blink he had sat up, grabbed my shoulders, and pinned me back down on the bed.

His eyes were completely clear (not to mention gleaming far too deviously for my liking), which told me he hadn't been sleeping at all.

"That wasn't very nice," he said, giving me a lazy grin that could only be described as _content._

I shrugged. "I haven't seen you for almost eight decades - let me have some fun."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Did last night not count? Not only did you see an awful lot of me, you also seemed to enjoy yourself quite a lot, if I do say so myself. And more than once."

I rolled my eyes. "You're unbelievable."

He placed a quick peck on my lips. "It's one of the many things you love about me, I'm sure."

I groaned. "Gods, if I'd known you'd be like this when we woke up, I'd have never slept with you."

"Yes, you would," he said confidently, rolling over and pulling me so I was resting my head on his chest again. "Because, let's be honest here, you needed it a lot more than I did."

"Okay," I said, moving to stand up, "I'm going to go feed the dog before I hit you."

"I'm sure I wouldn't argue," James said, catching me and pulling me back against him. "And you're not going anywhere, missy."

"James, I can't let Felix starve just because you want me to be a teddy bear this morning."

James let out a small grunt of complaint. "Fine," he grumbled, "but only if you promise to come straight back here once you're done."

I chuckled. "Fine, fine." And then he let go of me, allowing me to climb out of bed. I wasn't unaware of the fact his eyes followed every one of my movements as I scooped up his shirt and threw it on, the hem of the shirt only barely covering the tops of my thighs. As soon as I opened the bedroom door there was an excitable dog leaping up at me. I let out a huff when his front paws landed heavily on my stomach. "Okay, okay, I'm coming." I patted Felix on the head, before ushering him back into the kitchen. He circled me eagerly as I pulled out his bowl and poured in his breakfast. As soon as I'd put the bowl on the ground he shoved his nose in it, noisily munching on his food.

Holding back a yawn, I padded back to the bedroom, shutting the door behind me as I went. James sat up as soon as I was close enough for him to reach, tugging me back onto the mattress. I laughed, landing comfortably with my head on his lap. He sat up, smiling down at me with a softness to his gaze that I hadn't seen since before the war. He truly seemed like he couldn't have been happier. And that made my insides strangely warm.

James' metal hand came to rest on my head, his fingers running themselves through my hair. "Is it bad that I still can't believe you're really here?" he asked quietly.

I shrugged. "When I woke up this morning, I honestly thought it had all been a dream."

He nodded. "So did I. A hell of a good dream, but a dream nonetheless." He leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I can't tell you how pleased I was when I woke up and realised it was real."

I chuckled. "I think I have a good idea," I murmured, sitting up and pressing my lips against his. While my intentions were entirely innocent, the moment his hands fell to my waist and tugged me closer to him, those innocent intentions went out the window immediately.

* * *

I was lying on James' chest, feeling completely exhausted but in the best kind of way. I glanced up half-heartedly when I felt James' finger gently start to trace a complicated pattern on my arm, dancing it's way up from my elbow to my shoulder. A slight frown flickered onto his face as he twirled a lock of my hair around said finger. "Can I ask you a question?"

I smiled wanly, knowing this was going to come sooner or later. "Of course."

He hesitated for a moment. "You never told me what it was Philips said to you the day Steve rescued us."

"You never asked," I pointed out, but upon receiving an unamused expression in return I let out a sigh. I captured his hand in my own and held it firmly, drawing strength from his secure grip. "I don't know how to say this sensitively," I admitted. "It's huge, and even now it hurts like hell. Are you sure you want to know?"

He sat up, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed while I settled my head in his lap again. James then dipped his head down and kissed my forehead, his hair tickling my face. "Please," he pleaded softly.

I sighed again, nodding. "Alright," I relented. "When I first went back, I met Colonel Philips almost immediately. I landed in an old army base. The shift through time left me exhausted, which meant I didn't stay conscious for long. When I woke up, he was the one to greet me. He..." I cut myself off, biting my lip as I tried not to let this get to me too much, but it was hard. It was so hard. "He told me that I had a miscarriage upon arriving there." I felt James stiffen underneath me, but couldn't bring myself to look at him. "I assumed it was a result of Hydra's testing when we were in England (and in the end I discovered I wasn't wrong), so I just ignored it. Forgot about it. The day of the race, Philips pulled me aside to tell me he'd conducted some DNA tests that day. A match came up, and..." I flinched, feeling James' hand tighten around mine. He knew where this was going. I clenched my eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears I could feel coming. "It was ours, James," I finally managed to spit out. "It was our baby. And I lost it, because of them. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

That was the end for me. I turned my head into his stomach and began sobbing, my arms wrapping around him as I let myself truly feel that familiar pain for the first time in years.

James was completely still, making no noise. I almost believed he hadn't even heard until a warm drop of water splashed onto my neck. I sat up slowly and finally managed to drag up the courage to look at him.

What I saw broke my heart.

James looked like he was in agony, his lips parted and tears sliding freely down his cheeks. His eyes stared at the wall, unseeing. He blinked slowly, then turned his head towards me. The moment our eyes met, something within us both just... broke.

I let out another shuddering sob and found myself being drawn into his arms. We clung to each other as our sorrow escaped, as our pain overwhelmed us both. I cried into his shoulder and he cried into mine, and despite everything, I couldn't help but be grateful he was here again. I hated that a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, but I was glad that I had finally been able to tell him the truth.

"I love you, and I'm sorry," I whispered, wincing when his hold on me only tightened.

"It's not your fault," he whispered. "It's not your fault." He pressed a shaky kiss to my neck. "I love you."

And for a while we just sat there, holding each other and mourning the loss of our child. It was only as the sun reached its peak in the sky that our emotional exhaustion pulled us into sleep.

* * *

 **Just a reminder that for those of you who want the more mature content for this story, CheekyLittleFoxy and I have teamed up.**

 **Here's the link, if you don't want to go on a scavenger hunt looking for the right story (just tag it onto the fanfiction address): /s/12178142/1/Behind-Closed-Doors**


	26. 26 - A Debt Repaid

**A/N: I almost feel a little too eager with these updates, but this one is much shorter and I really don't care that much either way. Thank you so much for all the feedback for the reunion chapter, it's genuinely overwhelming! I've been asked two things quite frequently, so here are the answers. 1 - This story has two more chapters after this and an epilogue left to go. 2 - Yes, there are more stories coming. At least two more.**

 **Big thanks to: blondmage and haileynh for following/favouriting.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Lara Barnes: ... I mean, sure... It wasn't supposed to be funny... XP Glad you liked it!**

 **Eryniel Alasse: Answers to your questions are above (if you haven't already read them). I'm glad you liked it, and yeah, I thought that they deserved all the attention since they've been apart for SO long. As for Agent Silva, you will find out next chapter, I promise.**

 **Bookcrazey: Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I would be kinda heartbroken if I were in your shoes. I wish you all the best of luck. Since you're here, clearly there's every possibility of it happening!**

 **angelAnabiel: I did warn you the feels came from all directions ;). And don't worry, the end is a long way from now. Thanks, as always!**

* * *

 **26 - A Debt Repaid**

By the time we had to leave the cabin, James and I were still convinced we hadn't made up for anywhere near enough of the time we lost. I knew it would be a busy next few weeks. Months. Probably even years.

As I was locking up the cabin for the next people to use (I'd insisted we _thoroughly_ clean it up after our crazy few days), my phone pinged in my pocket, telling me I had a text message. After dropping the keys in the half-dead potted plant by the door, I pulled out my phone and read the message.

 _AAF._

"What does that mean?" James asked, reading the text over my shoulder.

I grinned up at him. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

James feigned a pout. "You're no fun."

I wiggled my eyebrows at him. "Is that so? Must I repeat your own words, sweetheart?"

He chuckled. "No, no, I think I get the message." He looked around him, mainly eyeing the large gathering of people on the beach down the hill. "So, what are we doing next?"

"We're going to my home," I told him simply.

"And where is that?"

I grinned. "Not far. Two hours at most, if the traffic's bad."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you have a car?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "I have a _sexy_ car," I boasted proudly.

"Where did you get the money for it?"

I snorted. "Asgardians aren't very clued up on how much the American dollar is worth," I explained, taking his hand and leading the way towards the beach car park. "Shortly after I arrived, I made a point that, when I came back, I'd have no money for food or anything like that. So, somehow, Odin managed to compensate me."

"So how much have you got?"

"A lot. Like I said, American money is foreign to them. Also, they're royalty, so they live very luxurious lives. What Odin set up gained me the equivalent of around $5000 every day, at today's value."

James blinked. "And how much is that over... 61 years, was it?"

I nodded. "60," I corrected. "Heimdall sent me permanently back to Earth in January. It was then that I met Mariana and... yeah, things just fell into place after that."

"So how much have you got?"

I grinned. "About a hundred million dollars."

He stopped dead, staring at me. "A hundred million? Did I hear that right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, you did. So, I've got some cash to waste. And with some of it I bought a very expensive, very cool car."

"What did you get?"

My grin widened. "A Bugatti Veyron."

James tilted his head to the side ever so slightly. "Doesn't Stark have one of those?"

Smirking, I answered, "Yes, but it's not as good as mine. I've had it upgraded and specially tuned to have the best performance possible."

"And you're using it in a place like New York City," James deadpanned.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, trust me, James, we won't be in the city for long."

"So where are we going?"

"You'll find out."

James chuckled. "You're really not gonna tell me?"

"Nope," I stated gleefully. "You're just gonna have to be patient."

* * *

James was officially addicted to Daphne's style of driving. While they were in the city they never really picked up any speed, but as soon as they'd cleared the city, Daphne floored it. And when you were in a supercar that could go well over 200mph, 'flooring it' was given a whole new meaning.

The car ate up the road faster than James would have thought possible, and he couldn't help but marvel at the sure way that Daphne handled the car. Like she'd been born to sit behind the wheel. In fact, the only one who wasn't enjoying himself was Felix, who'd settled himself in the footwell in front of James and was resting his chin on James' legs. Scratching the dog behind his ear helped to calm him down, but James could tell the German shepherd just wanted to get out of the cramped space.

It was a surprise when Daphne suddenly pulled off the main road and started along a dirt track. The car handled the change of surface well, and James figured it probably had something to do with the tuning that Daphne had mentioned earlier.

A couple minutes later, James' mind connected the dots. "We're heading for your farm," he said, surprised.

Daphne grinned and nodded. "Yeah. I was surprised to find it was still under my name, and still in one piece, when I finally came back here. There were a few boards that needed repairing, but it was immediately somewhere you could live. I stayed here for most of the last year, keeping out of trouble and establishing a life for myself outside military work."

"What about your music?"

Daphne smiled. "Still just a hobby," she told him. "At the moment I'm perfectly happy for it to stay that way, though I met a few people at a gig about five months ago who are talking about creating a band, and were looking for a lead guitarist. They have my number should they decide to give me a try so... We'll see, I guess."

"Congratulations," James muttered, in equal parts glad that she had found things that made her happy, and disappointed that he hadn't been there to help her.

He jumped slightly when Daphne's free hand squeezed his slightly. "You'll have all that too, if you want it. What's mine is yours. It was always intended that way."

James smiled and gently squeezed her hand back. "Thank you," he said. And he meant it more than anything else. He couldn't thank her enough for thinking of him, for staying loyal to him all that time. He understood what she meant when she wrote in her letter about Evelyn and Bucky, and he could never hold that against her. Because even then, she always put him first. Not Bucky, the charming, funny guy from Brooklyn, but James, the traumatised, broken man without a home. He could never match that. So all he could do was thank her, and mean it from the bottom of his heart.

"We're here," Daphne announced, drawing him from his thoughts.

Ahead, he saw a large, wooden house with a stone foundation. There were three stories (one looked like an attic) and a large porch. All around him were lush green fields and, not far from the house, a small forest. If he tilted his head right, he could also see the edge of a large barn hiding behind the house. Four cars were already parked in front of the house. A Land Rover, a fairly standard-looking estate car, a dirty Subaru, and an old Jeep. Behind the house, something black and thin was poking out from its hiding place behind the house, but James couldn't tell what it was. "This is amazing," he said in awe, looking around. He smiled. "It's almost exactly how I always pictured it way back when."

Daphne grinned. "I'm glad you like it. But it's about to get a whole lot better, if you ask me." She pressed the horn twice in quick succession, before turning off the engine. She turned to him with a smile. "You ready?"

"For what?"

"Facing the mob."

James followed her gaze and saw the Avengers, of all people, moving from inside the house and onto the porch.

"AAF," Daphne said with a grin. "Avengers at farm."

"How long were you planning this?" James asked, raising an eyebrow.

Daphne laughed. "Long enough. Now let's go, before Felix starts chewing the door to get it open."

Laughing under his breath, James opened his door, letting the dog leap out of the car and bound towards the house before he himself stepped out into the fresh air. On the other side of the car, Daphne was doing the same.

The two gravitated towards each other after rounding the car, their fingers interlocking as they walked towards the farmhouse.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" Stark was the first to speak, being predictably sarcastic.

Daphne shrugged. "It's a long and complicated story. Besides, cheating death isn't exactly a knew thing for me."

"So you found her, after all," Steve said with a smile.

James nodded. "I told you she was alive."

Steve held his hands up. "Forgive me for being sceptical," he said with a laugh.

Daphne moved away from James and surprised everyone by tackling Natasha into a hug. The red haired woman was clearly startled, but returned the hug a moment later, if not somewhat awkwardly.

Daphne drew back. "Sorry," she said. "I've just missed you."

"It's been a week," Clint said, confused, but still undoubtedly glad to see her again.

Daphne sighed. "Not for me, it hasn't. I'm actually twice as old as I was last time I saw you."

" _What?_ "

Daphne laughed again as each of the Avengers went from one stage of shock to the next. "Yeah, I told you it was complicated. Why don't we go inside? I'll tell you what happened."

"If you need me to, I can help," James offered. He knew Daphne's wasn't exactly an easy history. If he could help her, he'd do it without a moment's hesitation.

Daphne smiled up at him and nodded. "Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks, James." She then grinned and turned back to Natasha. "You owe me a thousand dollars," she said, sounding entirely too pleased.

Natasha blinked. "Why?"

"You told me the dance was going to go well," Daphne said with a grin. "It didn't. So you owe me a thousand dollars."

"Hey, until that guy showed up, you were having the time of your life," Natasha countered.

Daphne considered it. "Okay," she said at length. "I'll half it."

"You don't need any more money, Daph," James pointed out.

Daphne shrugged. "I don't forget my bets," she said simply. "Besides, Nat and I made an agreement."

Natasha shrugged. "It's fine - I'll pay. But only if you tell us what the hell happened to you."

Daphne nodded, smile faltering for a second. "Okay, that seems fair." She took a deep breath. "Why don't we all go inside? I'll give you all the gory details."

"Actually," Steve said with a grin, "speaking of agreements, there's something I'd like to do first." And with that, he disappeared into the house.

Tony looked at Daphne. "Any idea what he's on about?"

"Not a clue," she murmured, before following the American hero into the house. He had disappeared completely, so Daphne just gestured to the lounge and told everyone to take a seat. She then rounded the corner that led to the main hallway. "No," James heard her say sternly.

"You _did_ promise," Steve said, peaking James' curiosity, though now he was settled on one of Daphne's incredibly comfortable couches, he wasn't all that inclined to get back up.

"I promised the Howling Commandos," Daphne said firmly. "I didn't promise the Avengers. It's a very different thing."

"Don't you say that about everything?" Steve teased, and the two of them came into the room. James finally understood what they were talking about. In Steve's hand was an old but clearly well cared for acoustic guitar.

"I'm sorry, back up a minute," Bruce said, leaning forward in his chair, a frown on his face. "Did you say you promised the _Howling Commandos?_ "

Daphne nodded, grasping her guitar by the neck and then carefully leaning it against the wall, ignoring Steve's small pout. "I suppose this is where it gets a bit complicated," she said, moving to sit down on the seat beside James. But James had other plans, gently guiding her so she was sat securely on his lap. She smiled at him, neither of them caring about the various looks they were getting from the others. Daphne was his, just like he was hers, and it wouldn't hurt to remind people every now and then. "I don't suppose any of you know what the Infinity Stones are...?" Their blank looks spoke louder than words. Daphne chuckled. "Then I think this explanation is going to have to start with a mythology lesson."


	27. 27 - Revelations

**A/N: Much fluff. So much fluff. Enjoy! ;)**

 **Big thanks to: ScottDerekLover and Lyric Dreams for favouriting!**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Lara Barnes: Aww, thanks you so much! :)**

 **angelAnabiel: I know, I wanted to make it longer than it seemed. Seems like that worked out XP**

 **NESSAANCALIME6913: Steve's just so precious XD**

 **ScottDerekLover (Chapter 21 review): No, it's not. Though not for the reason you're thinking ;)**

* * *

 **27 - Revelations**

Daphne explained everything to them in detail, James filling in whenever she missed something, or found it hard to squeeze the words out. Having him nearby at all times was a balm to her in so many ways, and the knowledge that everything was back to how it was supposed to be seemed to make things easier for her to talk about.

Once she was finished, the room fell into silence. Around halfway through the explanation, Agent Silva had appeared at the doorway, but as far as James knew, only he and Daphne had noticed her. Possibly Natasha as well.

"Quick question," Stark said at length. "What happened to the Time Stone?"

Daphne smiled. "When I came back to Earth just under a year ago, I ran into a certain someone." Here, she nodded at Silva, and the rest of the group finally noticed her silent presence. "One of the things about the Time Stone is it forces you to stay alive. It heals the injuries your body can't heal on its own. When I found her, she was almost dead. And her mind was..."

"Broken," Silva filled in, and James was startled to hear she was British. Not Spanish, like she'd made them all believe. Looking around, he noticed he wasn't the only one who was surprised or caught off guard by the sudden change. "I was broken in every sense of the word. When Daphne found me, I wasn't far from taking my own life. I figured death would be easier."

"But the Time Stone healed her," Daphne said, picking up with the story again. "Not just her physical maladies, but her mental ones as well. Within 24 hours of her first getting the Stone, she was an entirely different woman."

"After that," Silva said, moving into the room and sitting down in the last remaining empty space, "Daphne made me keep hold of the necklace. Though she said it was to make sure my injuries didn't somehow come back when I took the Stone off, I know now that she intended for me to give it to her past self when the time came."

Daphne smiled again. "The Infinity Stones are the most powerful and dangerous weapons in the universe. What the two of us have managed to do is keep the Time Stone locked in a constant loop between 1937 and 2014. Now we're past that moment... unless we come up with a way of travelling through time without the Stone, no one else is ever going to be able to lay their hands on it again. Which means no one can use it as a weapon."

Once again, silence fell. James looked at Silva. "Who are you?" he asked. It was a simple question, but it spoke volumes. Silva raised an eyebrow at him. "Your accent has changed, which makes me believe that the one you had before was just a front. So who are you?"

Silva chuckled. "It _was_ a front, you're right," she said with a smile. "Now you guys know everything, I can stop hiding behind my alias."

"Why is that important?" Natasha queried, frowning.

Silva smirked slightly. "Because if I'd have told you my real identity any sooner, things would have gone downhill very quickly."

"Why?" Steve's voice was hard. "Who are you?"

Silva took a deep breath. "My real name is Kaia Ashfield."

James felt his eyes widen in surprise. To most of the others, the name meant nothing at all. Only Barton seemed to understand the significance of what she'd just said. "So you survived," James murmured, noticing how every eye swivelled to him. He kept his gaze locked on Sil- Kaia. He finally knew what he'd been missing the whole time he was looking for Daphne - he _knew_ her. He hadn't known Dremora well, but they _had_ met, and he had started to learn some of her habitual mannerisms. The woman in front of him had been showing the same mannerisms the whole time, and he hadn't really noticed.

Kaia snorted. "Hardly. And I _did_ die at one point."

"I had a dream about her," Daphne reminded him. "In that Hydra cell, remember?"

James nodded. "I remember. But I don't think either of us really believed it."

Daphne shrugged. "From what I can tell, the serum in our blood reacted oddly with the fluid they used, and it temporarily unlocked a part of our minds that is usually inaccessible. Small pieces of information that go unnoticed at the time are stored in the backs of our minds. That fluid somehow allowed our heads to make leaps in the future or the past that were scarily accurate, due to those small bits of information."

"But her story was so far-fetched..."

"I think I saw her once," Daphne said, frowning slightly. "I don't remember it, exactly, and I don't think it was a direct look but... I had a mission in Portugal once and for a moment I thought I saw something. I forgot about it afterwards, deeming it unimportant or just a mistake on my part, but clearly my mind held onto it. Which helped it to make that link when the time came.

"I'm sorry," Stark butted in, looking frustrated. "Can we have some context, please? Because most of us here have _no_ idea who Kaia Ashfield is."

"Kaia and I were captured by Hydra at the same time," Daphne explained quietly. "She was and is my sister in all things but blood. Three years after we first joined Hydra, we were injected with Hydra's supersoldier serum. While it worked fine with me, initially, the serum killed Kaia. Which is why I'm the only one Hydra openly used alongside James."

"But as long as there is some kind of brain or heart activity, the serum continues to work," Kaia explained, leaning her elbows on her knees. "There was just enough life left in me for the serum to start to repair me. But with many of my core neural pathways completely destroyed, the serum had no limit. My skin started to overgrow, and my hair started to fall out. Eventually, enough of my brain was fixed to stop the overgrowth, but that didn't mean I was back to my old self. I was locked in a childish state of mind; I was a child in everything but body. But I still subconsciously remembered all Hydra's training - muscle memory, most likely. So they put me to use, mainly in Europe so as to keep me away from the eyes of S.H.I.E.L.D. and any other enemies they had. When Alexander Pierce took over the control of Hydra, he had me put in cyrofreeze. When I was finally let out, I... snapped. Something in me just flipped, and I killed everyone who was in the vicinity. Daphne found me a day later, only a few hours before I would have ended it. It took time, but eventually I came to trust her. That's when she gave me the necklace and... well, you know the rest."

When the silence fell again, it had a different weight to it. It wasn't expectant, it wasn't heavy. It was thoughtful, and it drifted around them like a feather caught on a gust of air. James tightened his arms around Daphne and moved his lips to her ear.

"Are you okay?"

Daphne smiled and nodded. "Yeah," she whispered in return. "I'm alright. Thank you for helping me."

"I didn't do much."

"You were here," she said simply. "And that meant everything to me. So thank you."

James hummed, squeezing her closer to him. "I love you," he muttered into her shoulder.

When Daphne smiled that time it was nothing less than dazzling. "I love you too. Always."

* * *

Later that evening, I found James out in the barn, stroking the nose of one of my five horses. This one, Logan, hated most people. It had taken me a month to actually get him to trust me enough to touch him, let alone brush him down, feed him from my hand, or ride him.

James had done it in less than an hour.

"You never cease to amaze me," I murmured, coming to stand next to him. Logan eyed me disdainfully, no doubt for not coming here for the last week, before he bobbed his head and gently nudged James in the chest.

James chuckled, patting the Friesian stallion on the side of his neck. "Maybe he realised how clueless I was and took pity on me," he said with a grin.

I let out a bark of laughter. "Ha! The day Logan shows pity is the day I walk to the moon. He's a absolute git, aren't you, boy?" Logan snorted, and if horses could glare, I'm sure he would have been doing so. I turned back to James. "Steve and Kaia are making dinner, so you have about half an hour to an hour before you're needed back at the house." I grinned. "Want to go for a ride?"

James glanced nervously at the horses around him. "I've never ridden before," he admitted.

I shrugged. "It's easier than it looks. And there's a first time for everything."

James glanced back at Logan, who returned the stare wholeheartedly. At length, James nodded. "Fine. But I'm blaming you if I fall off."

I laughed. "Ah, that'll be a moment to remember if it ever happens. Since I've never fallen off before, I doubt it will though." I paused. "Do you want to risk trying to ride Logan? He's not a... cooperative beast, by any means, but he seems to like you. Which is a miracle in and of itself, if you ask me."

James stared at the horse, and the horse stared back. It was a bit strange, to be honest. After a moment, James smiled. "What the heck?" he finally said. He glanced around at the other horses. "Which one are you going to ride?"

I smiled and headed over to my favourite horse - my flea-bitten grey Andalusian stallion. He was much more tame than Logan, and he was the fastest of all my horses. I gently ushered him out of his stall, before patting his neck. "Orion is my favourite," I told James. "He's excellent for short rides around the farm, though not so much for longer trips."

"Do you go on those often?"

I shrugged. "Sometimes." I grinned. "So, you game?"

James laughed. "Yeah," he said. "I'm game."

* * *

A little while later, the two horses were munching on the grass not far from the treeline, and James and I lay on the ground next to each other, staring up at the sky. The sun was just starting to dip in the horizon, painting the sky a bright rainbow of warm pinks and fiery oranges. It truly was a sight to behold, and one I knew I could never grow tired of.

"Daphne?"

"Hmm?"

James glanced at me, before looking back up. "Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

I blinked. "Why?"

He smiled slightly. "Because you have a house. A house big enough for a family. Enough money to raise a family. It makes me wonder if that's the plan."

I shrugged. "I don't... really have a plan, to be honest. Most of the plans I've ever made turned out to be for nothing, so in the end I just gave up on making them and let things happen. Besides, if there's no plan, there's a smaller chance of disappointment." I frowned, looking over at him. "Why do you ask?"

James waved a hand, gesturing to the land around him. "Everything here is what I told you I wanted all those years ago. I wonder if it's what _you_ want too, or if you're just doing it because..." He trailed off, pursing his lips slightly.

I rolled my eyes, moving until my chin was rested on his chest. He shifted his head so he could meet my eyes as I stated, very seriously, "James, I love it here. All of it. The animals. The nature. The quiet. It's perfect for me." My frown returned. "What's all this about?"

He sighed. "I just wondered if, in ten years time, you still saw yourself living here."

"Of course I do," I said firmly. "I bought this house to live in, James. For years. Decades, even. And look, I've still got it, over half a century later."

"Well, it's not like you had much of an opportunity to get rid of it for most of that time."

I rolled my eyes. "That's not the point, and you know it. This house is more than just a home to me, it's... a representation of everything I've ever wanted. Peace. Freedom. Anonymity. And yeah, maybe one day a family as well."

For a long time, James stared at me, before he slowly started sitting up, forcing me to do the same. James' hand rested on the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, and then he tenderly brought his lips to mine. The kiss was passionate and loving, with none of the fire and lust I'd gotten used to in the past few days. Yet this was far more powerful, because through this single touch I could hear every word he wanted to say, feel every inch of his love. And in turn my love for him surrounded him, and I silently gave my heart to him, wholly and completely, forever and always.

Drawing back, James smiled at me softly, before he pressed his forehead against mine and let out a long sigh. "Marry me," he murmured.

I jolted, but James didn't let me move away, his hands coming to rest on my waist. "What?" I croaked.

"Marry me," he repeated, this time with more urgency. "I'm sorry I don't have a ring, or any elaborate, romantic speech, but that doesn't mean I want this any less. I love you, Daphne, and I want to be able to come home every day to the woman I love, and be able to call you my wife. I want to one day see our sons and daughters running around this farm, living the life we always wanted for ourselves. I want to know that, even if one day we're parted again, we'll always be bound together in the eyes of God. Because that way we can stay together even in death." He pressed a hot kiss to my lips, leaving a scorching mark there. "I can never be without you, Daphne. So please, _please,_ do me the honour of becoming my wife."

I smiled wryly at him. "If you ask me, I'd call that a romantic speech," I teased, before laughing and throwing myself at him, knocking us both back into the grass. "For the record, the speech wasn't necessary. And I don't need a ring. The promise that you'll always love me is enough."

"I will," he said firmly. "You're my reason to be alive. I won't ever let you go, Daphne. I swear it."

My smile blossomed faster than it ever had before. "Then yes," I told him, kissing his lips again. "Yes, I will marry you, James Buchanan Barnes."


	28. 28 - Partners In Crime

**A/N: This is the last full chapter of this story! I will probably post the epilogue and the first chapter of the next story tomorrow. I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Big thanks to: eden. holdford, Love. Fiction. 2016, Jezabelle31415926, The-Sexiest-Bookworm and Grandwrex for following/favouriting! :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **NESSAANCALIME6913: Haha, I'm glad to hear it.**

 **Love. Fiction. 2016: She went back in time because the Time Stone was keeping her alive. The fact it sent her back to Bucky's era was just coincidence.**

 **Lara Barnes: Surprise...!? A lot of people thought Silva was gonna be Daphne, so I'm glad this came as a shock to some people :)**

* * *

 **28 - Partners In Crime**

Daphne would never admit it - _ever_ \- but she was a bundle of nerves. Pepper, Kaia, Laura and Natasha had taken over her room and were bustling around her, preparing her for her first day (and night - Kaia was insisting how important that night was with almost every sentence she spoke) as a married woman. Pepper was making sure the church was all set up, talking at a thousand miles an hour on the phone, Natasha was expertly curling and pinning up her hair, Kaia was sorting out her makeup, and Laura was in the next room, getting her dress out of its bag.

Natasha was just putting the final pin in Daphne's hair when Tony walked into the bedroom, looking particularly smart in his black tuxedo. Daphne was lacking a father-figure to walk her down the aisle, and with Steve as James' best man, she decided to pick Tony for the job.

Tony went straight to Pepper's side and kissed her on the cheek. "You look beautiful," he told her.

"Thanks, Tony." Pepper smiled widely at him. "But just you wait until you see Daphne's dress. It's gorgeous!"

"I would hope so," Daphne grumbled, eyes closed while Kaia carefully applied black eyeliner to the backs of her eyes. "She spent a hell of a long time looking for that dress, and even _I_ haven't seen it yet."

"Wait, you haven't?" Tony repeated in surprise.

"Pepper was frustratingly insistent on that matter." She frowned for a second. "How's James?" she asked after a moment of hesitation.

"He's great. Very calm."

"That makes one of us," Daphne murmured under her breath.

Kaia tutted disapprovingly. "You're fine," she retorted with a chastising tone. "And I'm sure he's a lot more nervous than he's letting on."

"Oh, that reminds me." Daphne was finally given permission to open her eyes, and she turned to see Tony digging out a small box from his pocket. He passed it to her, smirking when she shot him a look of confusion. "From your esteemed husband-to-be," he told her.

Daphne blinked in surprise for a few seconds, before gently prying the wooden lid off the top of the box. Inside was a folded note, and underneath was a delicate gold-chain necklace with a teardrop shaped pearl on the bottom. Daphne smiled and admired its beautiful simplicity, before opening the letter.

 _Daphne,_

 _I know I probably should have given this to you before now, but I wanted it to be a surprise. Hopefully it doesn't ruin any other plans you've made. This necklace was the same one my mother wore when she got married, and I think it belonged to her mother before that, too. Steve managed to pick up a few of my old things from a S.H.I.E.L.D. warehouse, and this was one of the things he found. Apparently Becca insisted I have it, though she did of course wear it on_ her _wedding day. I know it's not much, but it would mean the world to me if you wore it. I can't wait to be able to finally call you Mrs Barnes. Only a short time now. I can be patient. I think._

 _Love always (yes, I stole your line),_  
 _James_

"Daphne, no crying! Crying is _not_ allowed! You'll ruin your makeup!" Kaia scolded sternly, panicking at the thought of her self-proclaimed masterpiece being ruined. Daphne hadn't even realised that her eyes were filling with tears.

She shook her head. "You didn't pick out a necklace for me, did you?" she asked with a surprisingly quiet voice.

"No," Pepper said with a smile. "We knew James wanted to give you that necklace, so we didn't bother."

"Hang on, you knew?" Daphne asked in astonishment.

Pepper smirked. "We're clever when we want to be," she said, before taking the necklace out of Daphne's hands and then wrapping it around her neck, quickly doing up the clasp. Pepper beamed. "Oh, it looks better than I'd hoped. And it'll go brilliantly with your dress."

"About that..."

At that moment, Laura waltzed in, carrying the aforementioned dress in her arms. "We don't have much time before we have to leave, so let's do this quickly."

* * *

James was filled with a strange mix of pure terror and utter elation when he and Steve arrived at the church. The church had been decorated in a stylish mix of more modern and more traditional decorations, and James knew without a doubt that Pepper had absolutely everything to do with that. White cloth had been tied to each of the church benches, and tied to each bench was a small bouquet of white roses. The alter itself was laden with more flowers, ranging from white to vibrant pink, yet still tastefully chosen. Candles were lit all around the room, giving it a warming glow.

Most of their guests had already arrived, though there weren't many of them. There were a few S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents who had come along, and some of the friends that Daphne had made since the beginning of 2014 were also there. James' family, immediate and extended, had all been invited, and one glance to his left told them they had all arrived. He offered a slight smile, receiving polite smiles from those he didn't know and beaming grins from those he did in return. Most of the rest of their guests were older, friends of Bucky and Evelyn's from the war. A few seemed a little puzzled that they'd been invited, having been closer to Evelyn than Bucky. They still didn't know that Daphne and Evelyn were one and the same, but she planned to tell them that today.

James was greeted by a surprisingly large number of half-awkward hugs and thumps on his back as he made his way up the aisle to stand by Steve, who had gone ahead and was now waiting for him.

Steve patted him on the shoulder and smiled brightly at Pepper and Natasha, who were just beginning their long walk down the aisle towards the alter. They both looked quite beautiful today, wearing matching green dresses that trailed to the floor. Behind them came Kaia, Daphne's maid of honour, the dark red of her dress making an interesting contrast between the deep purple of her hair.

In the next moment, all sensations ceased in James' body. At the other end of the church, Daphne had just come into view, her left arm linked through Tony's right, holding a bouquet of pink and white peonies in her other hand. Her gown was exquisite. It was made of silk and lace, with the merest hint of off-the-shoulder sleeves. It clung to her body spectacularly, and the four foot train followed her gracefully as she made her way towards James. His breath caught in his throat when he noticed his mother's necklace settled neatly around her neck.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, and he couldn't even begin to fathom how he had managed to end up with a woman so perfect. She was smiling, almost glowing with how radiant she looked, and her eyes never moved away from his. He spied tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and though he hated to admit it, he could feel his own threatening to mist up.

When they finally reached him, Tony turned to Daphne and brought her into a close hug and whispered something in her ear that James couldn't hear, enhanced hearing and all. Daphne smiled, nodded, and kissed her friend on his cheek. Tony then placed Daphne's hand on James', and suddenly the whole world stopped spinning for a moment.

"You look stunning," James whispered as they turned to the minister.

"So do you," she murmured in return.

The minister cleared his throat and began. "Loved ones, we are gathered today to celebrate the loving union of two people who have come together against all odds. They have been through many trials together, more than most people face in a lifetime, and they have come through them triumphantly, forever at one another's side. This is the truest form of love. They have each written their own wedding vows to one another. James, would you please begin?"

Daphne handed her flowers to Kaia, and then turned to face James. They grasped hands, interlacing their fingers. James looked into Daphne's warm grey-green eyes and noticed she wasn't breathing as she waited for him to speak.

"We both know that how we came to be wasn't smooth. It wasn't romantic, or even in any way remotely normal." A few people in the audience chuckled at that. Daphne's smile broadened into an amused grin, before settling down again. "We met in a world where love was just a fantasy, and yet somehow we managed to make it real. You stayed by my side when I had no hope, when I was on the brink of fading, and you brought me back to the light. I had nothing, and now I have everything I will ever need. I know I cannot truthfully promise you a life of comfort, but one thing I can promise you is that, whatever comes our way, I'll stay by your side through it all. My love and loyalty to you surpasses all else. If I had a thousand lifetimes to live, I would choose to live every one of them with you. And when our time comes, and we pass from this world to the next, know that I will stay by your side even then. I love you, and I will for eternity."

The minister then turned to Daphne, whose eyes had now flooded with tears, and James knew she was fighting damn hard not to let them fall. "Miss Sparrow?"

Daphne smiled wryly. "I had this whole speech prepared, but I'm not going to recite what I wrote. This moment is worth more than a few words written on paper." She took a deep breath. "When I first met you, you were my spark of light in a world of darkness. Whenever I was close to giving up, you'd be there, comforting me, making me feel like the most important girl in the world. Nothing about us is in any way normal, and I don't want it to be. Because what we have is special. It's unique. And we both know its definitely survived the test of time. You and I fought in two wars together, and both times we came out the other end knowing that we still had one another. And nothing else mattered. I could take on the world if you were there. I would battle the world in your name. No, what we have is not normal. But it's strong, and it will stay that way. I love you, and I will for eternity."

The minister smiled at them both, and then spoke once more. "Do you, James Buchanan Barnes, take Daphne Juliet Sparrow to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others until death do you part?"

"I do," said James softly, looking in Daphne's eyes and smiling. His right hand began to shake slightly with the enormity of the moment, though his metal arm remained perfectly still.

"And do you, Daphne Juliet Sparrow, take James Buchanan Barnes to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others until death do you part?"

"I do," Daphne murmured, giving James' hand a squeeze, before wiping the tears from her eyes as they finally began to fall. James felt his heart swell with emotion, and he and Daphne exchanged breathless smiles as they both realised that _this was it._

"Do you have rings to exchange?" asked the minister.

Kaia and Steve stepped forward, passing the minister a ring each. James smiled slightly as Daphne's ring was placed in his hand, all the while watching as the band that would sit on his metal finger was given to the love of his life. James took Daphne's left hand in his right, before gently sliding her ring onto her finger. Daphne smiled, another tear slipping down her cheek, and then did the same. No one made a sound as she pulled his glove off his left hand, revealing the gleaming silver metal to the world. Daphne shot him a reassuring smile, before easing the ring over the plates of his finger.

"By the powers vested in me," the minister said grandly, and James sucked in a sharp breath, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. James, you may kiss your bride."

And James didn't hesitate to do so. He took Daphne in his arms and kissed her with all of the love his heart was capable of ever feeling. Daphne responded in kind, and their tears of joy mixed together as their souls became bound before God Himself. When they at last drew apart, James finally noticed the eager cheers of the crowd, and he exchanged one final, soft smile with the woman who he now had the honour of calling his wife, before they turned to the rest of the crowd. Their friends and family might be privileged with the next few hours of their time, but Daphne and James would have each other forever.


	29. Epilogue

**A/N: So here it is! The final part of Upon The Edge Of Glory! I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope to see many of you in the next instalment. It's called When The Past Comes Calling, and the first chapter is already posted. Thank you SO much for all your support. :D**

 **I'm sorry, but I can't reply to your reviews, being unable to see them at the moment. However, hopefully I'll be able to respond when I can see them again, and I will make sure I do so.**

 **Onwards!**

* * *

 **Epilogue**

"Daphne, get in here!"

Sighing silently to myself, I put down the batter-covered spoon in my hand and walked towards the lounge, where Ja- _Bucky_ was intently watching the TV. It was only small, as we didn't want technology to take over our life in the countryside, but it was helpful to stay up to date with current events in the world.

On the screen was a news report about a recent Avengers raid, during which they finally got their hands on Loki's sceptre, which had 'gone missing' (it was actually stolen) during the helicarrier fiasco with Hydra.

I sighed. "I wondered how long it'd be."

"So this is the - what did you call it? - Age of Ultron?"

I nodded. "The start of it, yes." I glanced down at him, a frown pulling at my lips. "We can't just stand by and do nothing, Bucky."

Bucky sighed and got up, turning off the TV as he did so. He walked over to me and I willingly placed my head on his shoulder when he loosely wrapped his arms around me. "We knew this was coming."

"I know," I murmured. "I didn't realise it was this close. I mean, what about Pietro? Do you think he can be saved?"

Placing a soft kiss on the crown of my head, Bucky murmured, "We can't save everybody, Daph. All anyone can ever do is just _try._ "

"But we're going to help, right?"

Bucky gave me a look. "You know the rules, sweetheart."

"But, James-"

"Daphne, we've discussed this already," he said firmly. "And _you_ agreed to it." He cradled my face in his hands, sending me a reassuring smile. "It's going to be okay. You know that better than I do."

I let out a groan. "Uh, fine! Now go put some damn clothes on."

Bucky chuckled. "Is what I'm wearing not decent enough for you, doll?"

"It's fine for me," I said with a smirk. "I'm pretty sure the others wouldn't appreciate you walking around _only_ in a pair of boxers. Now scoot. I have a phone call to make."

Bucky dropped a quick but fiery kiss on my lips before heading down the hallway and towards the basement, where all our mission equipment was kept. Before he reached it however, he turned around, a teasing frown on his face. "I thought I asked you to stop calling me James."

I groaned, rolling my eyes. "I'm not gonna be able to make the change instantaneously. I got used to calling you James, even in my head, so changing to Bucky is just... weird. Be patient, for crying out loud."

Bucky grinned and winked at me, before turning and sauntering away again. I followed him with my eyes until he disappeared from view, then shook my head and moved towards the phone, swiftly dialling a number I knew very well at this point.

" _Hello?_ "

"Hi, Laura, it's Daphne."

" _Daphne? Are you alright?_ "

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just... I need a favour."


End file.
